How Quickly It All Falls Apart
by lolamyrebel
Summary: Zombie AU. Santana thinks they have more time. Brittany is worried.
1. Prologue

The first thing people hadn't realized was the rapidity with which the virus would spread.

Santana had been in the living room with her parents, pretending not to be interested in the news, when the first story was covered. Two days later it had even made its way to the front page of the _Lima Tribune_.

"TOWN UNDER QUARINTINE AFTER SUSPECTED GOVERNMENT TESTING"

Apparently some jackasses in the upper echelons of the political ladder thought it would be great to use some town in Illinois, population ten, as their little government experiment. _Well_, Santana thought, _I hope they drown in paperwork now cause that shit isn't about to blow over anytime soon_. Admittedly, not her most malicious thought, but hey, how could anything actually constitute as a town with a population of ten people. Anyway, they weren't dead, just under quarantine. Probably just as a precaution anyway.

Still, always the opportunist, Santana didn't waste time in calling Brittany.

"Hey B, seeing as it's the end of the world, I was hoping I could take you somewhere tonight," Santana said, clutching her phone to her ear.

Brittany hadn't been nearly as blasé about the quarantine as Santana had expected when the news had come out two days earlier. In fact, something about her seemed different. It was almost as though the little cloud of happiness that seemed permanently affixed to Brittany had lifted. In its place was a frown line.

"Relax," Santana had remembered telling her in school, "This isn't anything bad. Those people are probably under quarantine as a safety precaution."

"But San," Brittany had replied, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, "they haven't even said _why_ those people are quarantined. I mean, what's wrong with them?"

It was true, for being the cover news story, and pretty much anything anyone would talk about, there was surprisingly little information about what had actually happened to the people of, what was now dubbed, Site Zero. And so, theories exploded all over the place, most of which could be found on Jacob's blog, which, of course, Santana didn't read.

Bringing herself back to the current conversation, Santana said "B?"

"Do you really think it's the end of the world?" said a hesitant voice eventually, from the other end of the line.

Santana sighed and brought her hand to her forehead, rubbing furiously. "No, no I don't B. Sorry for saying that, I just, wasn't thinking."

"Ok."

"So…can I take you out, or what?" Santana asked again.

"Of course," Brittany said, "Where? Breadstix?"

"No, something different. I'm going to have to sneak out and take my Dad's car though since the other one is in the shop, so it's going to be later. I'll come pick you up at 11:30, ok?" Santana asked.

"Ok."

And then the line was quiet. Santana looked at her phone and saw that Brittany was still on.

"Brittany..?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm scared San," was all Brittany said, and then she hung up.

* * *

><p>Santana was quietly running around her house grabbing everything she wanted for the evening. Both her parent's had early-morning jobs and were in bed by nine, but Santana didn't want to risk waking them up, so she waited.<p>

She ran down to the cellar and looked at the wall of wine; something her dad had a bit of an affinity for. Santana grabbed a bottle that was close to her: a 1986 _Chteau Mouton Rothschild Pauillac._ _Sounds French_, Santana thought, shrugging before loading it unceremoniously in her backpack along with a corkscrew and two solo cups.

She looked around the cellar, searching for anything she may have missed. In the corner she saw two new containers of water that her mom had stacked against the already existing three. Both her parents were doctors; they were both extremely intelligent, level-headed, hard-working, strict, sometimes-anal, people. They also made serious bank. Still, on top of all these wondrous qualities, her mom was also a bit paranoid. And so, she insisted that if her husband was allowed the cellar to indulge in wine, she should be given some space to indulge as well. That meant extreme natural disaster preparedness. For what? Santana wasn't quite sure, but it seemed that if there happened to be a hurricane, earthquake, tornado, and waves coming crashing the 70 miles from Lake Erie, the Lopez family would be ok for a bit.

Santana checked her watch: 11:15.

Time to go.

Sneaking into the garage, Santana grabbed her dad's keys and opened the door to his Escalade EXT. She had always thought it was a fucking ugly ass car, but sometimes, or in her dad's case, most times, price tags won over aesthetics and for right now she was just glad it had the pick-up trunk.

She punched the button for the garage door and cringed at how loud it seemed. _Was it always that loud? _Turning the key in the ignition, she drove out of the driveway and into the street. Two minutes later and she was out of the gates that separated Lima Heights from the rest of the town. So what if she lived in a gated community.

Another minute went by and she was driving by Rachel's house…Berry's house, whatever. Then it was Puck's, then Sam's. The streets were quiet; it seemed not many people were out this late on a Tuesday night. Finally she pulled up to Brittany's house. It was small, but cozy: yellow, with white-shuttered windows. Most of Santana's best memories were in that house. Her and Brittany's first playdate, Disney movie marathons, dinner's with the Pierce's, being there the day Mrs. Pierce came home with Brittany's new baby sister in her arms. Santana stepped out of the car and pulled her phone out noticing it was only half charged. _Fucking smart phones and their non-existent battery power_. She dialed Brittany and put the phone up to her ear hearing it ring and ring before finally going to voicemail. Santana hung up, frowning. She called again, this time Brittany picked up.

"…hello?"

She sounded groggy.

"Hey, it's me," Santana sad.

"Oh right, sorry, I fell asleep," Brittany said, "I'll be down in a second."

One minute later Brittany came out of the front door, clad only in boxer shorts and a t-shirt that she had had since she was seven. Then, it had gone past her waist, now, it exposed part of her midriff. In her hand she was holding a stuffed duck. Santana grinned, walking up to meet her.

"Hey," she said, once they were together, her arms immediately making their way around Brittany's neck.

"Hey," Brittany said, her eyes crinkling in a smile as her hands splayed on either side of Santana's hips.

Their lips met, soft and sweet. Brittany's tongue swiping Santana's lower lip, leaving a minty taste.

"Mmmm," Santana said, smiling into the kiss before breaking apart. "Missed that."

"Mmhhmm," Brittany said, nodding.

"Now let's get going, we have a bit of a drive," Santana explained.

She walked around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for Brittany, who, giggled before stepping in. Santana took a moment to appreciate how things had changed over the past year. This time last year she had been with Sam, Brittany had been with Artie, and she had been miserable. Sure, as far as guys go Trouty Mouth wasn't horrible, but 'not horrible' can only get you so far when the only reason you let him make out with you was because when you closed your eyes you imagined that was what kissing the lips of Angelina Jolie must feel like. _Now look at me,_ Santana thought, _Opening doors and planning a barf-wrenchingly romantic, midnight escapade_. Admittedly, she had never been happier.

Once they were both in the car, buckled, Santana peeled away from the curb and made her way to the highway. Brittany didn't ask where they were going, she just grabbed Santana's right hand and intertwined their fingers. Taking a quick glance at her, Santana thought she saw old-Brittany, the twinkle in her eyes. That was the whole reason she was doing this; to get Brittany's mind out of the bad place it had been the past couple of days. If she was being honest with herself, it was to get her mind away from it as well. While people like Puck and Finn joked about the idea of a corrupt government creating monsters in secret government facilities, the thought did nothing but make Santana's stomach churn.

She pulled the car off the highway once they were about twenty minutes outside Lima's city limits. They drove past a few farms and finally made it to the end of the road where all that lay before them was an open meadow peppered with trees. Brittany's smile covered her face as she turned to Santana.

"It's beautiful," she said.

"Just you wait," said Santana "Let's get out."

Stepping out of the car Santana motioned for Brittany to follow her to the trunk where she opened the exposed bed. Brittany gasped at all the pillows and blankets that covering the back of the vehicle.

"Here, step in," Santana said, linking her hand together to create a step for Brittany, who put her foot in and lifted herself up, into the trunk.

Santana made a rather ungraceful scramble up and soon they were both there, on their knees, facing one another. It was dark except for the light from the moon casting a soft glow onto both girls. The air around them was warm and still. There was silence. Santana's palms were sweating. Why were they sweating? It was just Brittany. Neither of them said anything, but instinctively they both closed the gap, bringing their hands and faces together.

Brittany's lips closed on Santana's her teeth pulling on the girl's upper lip. Santana gasped. She immediately twisted them so that she was lying on top of Brittany, her hands finding their way under Brittany's t-shirt, lightly scraping down Brittany's sides until they were rubbing lightly at her hips. Brittany shuddered and arched into her, their lips and tongues sliding against one another. Brittany's hands were moving slowly up then down Santana's lower back, tracing her spine up until they came to her shoulder blades. Santana had both her legs on either side of Brittany's, straddling her, and she was now regretting wearing jeans as Brittany pushed her hips up. Santana slowed her kisses to a point that they were almost lazy. Slowly bringing her tongue to the roof of Brittany's mouth, then to her lips, gradually along her throat. She pressed soft kisses below her ear and then sucked lightly on her earlobe. Brittany let out a soft moan.

"Don't worry baby, we're not in a rush," Santana said softly bringing her face up so that she could look Brittany in the eyes. She turned their bodies again so that they were lying side by side, not kissing, but heads and lips so close that it was as though they were sharing the same breath. Brittany smiled. So did Santana. Then Santana nudged Brittany before saying "Though, of course, I did bring you here to get our mack on, that wasn't the only reason, if it was, we could have just stayed home." Then she turned on her back and pointed at the sky. Brittany mimicked her action and let out a squeak of joy.

"Oh San! It's Beautiful!" Brittany exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Above them was the moon. It wasn't quite full, but you couldn't really tell one way or another. Surrounding it, the stars shone brighter than Santana had ever seen them. They stared up in silence, holding their hands together.

"That's not all!" Santana said before pulling herself into a sitting position. She grabbed her backpack, which she had in the far corner and began to remove the contents. First came a small battery-powered lantern, then came the wine, cups and corkscrew, and finally a jar of Nutella, and some strawberries.

They spent the next half hour sitting cross-legged, with their knees pressed firmly against each others, drinking the wine, and feeding each other Nutella-covered strawberries. Halfway through, Brittany had hopped out of the trunk, much to Santana's disappointment, only to run to the front of the car and turn on the radio so that soft melodies were sweeping over the meadow. Santana packed everything back in her backpack. Brittany hopped back up and made her way behind Santana, kissing her neck. Santana turned her head so that their lips met. Brittany's hands made their way down on either side of Santana until they were tugging at the bottom of her shirt. Santana took the hint, bringing her arms up as Brittany brought the item of clothing over her head. Santana turned so she could do the same for Brittany. Before long, all their clothes were off and their bodies curled into one another, surrounded in blankets and pillows.

"It's like being on a cloud," Brittany breathed in wonder.

_Cloud 9_, Santana thought to herself.

Soon their bodies were moving together and Santana couldn't think anymore. She couldn't do anything but admire how beautiful Brittany looked, her naked body stretched out, with two of Santana's fingers inside her, her mouth open wide and the moon and stars reflected in her eyes.

Afterwards, they lay intertwined, legs tangled, breasts pressed together, and arms wrapped so tightly that it seemed nothing could separate them. Santana stared at Brittany's face, all traces of a frown line had disappeared, and all thoughts of any 'Site Zero' were gone. With the wine settling in their stomachs, and the warm breeze caressing their bodies, it was as if the universe was asking them to sleep.

It was as if the universe was telling them _Please, forget, for one last night. _


	2. Chapter 1

The first thing Santana noticed was that the music was gone. In fact, it must have been that which had awoken her. In its place was static.

The second thing she noticed was that it was light out.

"Fuck!" she shouted, jolting up.

"Huh?" Brittany questioned, sleepily opening her eyes and bringing herself into a sitting position. Santana allowed herself a moment to stare unabashedly at Brittany's naked form before remembering where they were and what time it was.

Speaking of which, what _was_ the time?

Santana reached over to her bag and pulled out her phone…which was dead.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" she cursed again.

"What's wrong," Brittany asked, confused.

"Britt, do you have your phone? What time is it?" Santana asked frantically.

"Um, yeah, one sec." Brittany began searching the bed of the car until finally, "It's 7:17…oh…"

"Oh my god!" Santana shrieked "My parents are going to fucking kill me, and then they are going to bury me somewhere under the Lima Heights Gates where they put all the other dead bodies!"

"Are there really other dead bodies?" Brittany asked curiously.

Santana shot her a look that read, _You don't want to know. _

"Ok, ok," said Santana, attempting to calm herself down, "we need to just get dressed and head back. My parents probably just took a cab to work, but they're going to be royally pissed when they get back." She groaned, shaking her head, which, in turn made her groan again.

"Damn it!" she shouted "_and _I think I'm fucking hung over!"

Brittany giggled.

Santana shot her a glare.

"I'm sorry," Brittany said, "really…it's just…well, you look funny yelling and screaming when you're all naked."

"Oh," Santana said, looking down at herself "yeah, I guess I am."

They both quickly put their clothes back on, sneaking small smiles at one another.

"You know," Brittany said slowly "I'm sorry if you get in trouble, but I'm not sorry that we did it."

Santana looked at her and gave her grin.

"Me neither, wouldn't trade it for the world."

They hopped out of the back, gave one another a kiss, and then closed the trunk bed.

Once Santana and Brittany got buckled in, Santana went to turn the key.

"San, why isn't there any more music?" Brittany asked.

"I don't know B…I mean, we are sort of in the middle of nowhere," Santana replied.

"But it was fine all last night," Brittany stated.

"Yeah, that is weird," Santana admitted, but she couldn't give any better answer.

Santana pulled the car into reverse before spinning it around, taking them back up the road towards the highway.

"Hey B, why don't you just change the station and find something better," Santana suggested.

Brittany leaned over and pressed the button for another channel.

It was static.

Then another.

Static.

Another.

Static.

"San..? What's going on?" Brittany asked.

"I don't know," Santana admitted, "maybe the radio isn't working or something."

She shot a look a Brittany who didn't seem to be buying it.

"I really don't want to go to school today," Santana sighed dejectedly. The last night had been a wonderful break from their usual routine, the monotony of everyday life at McKinley. However, she had to admit that things were getting better, largely in part due to her relationship with Brittany, and, as much as she hated to say it, her blossoming friendships with the other members of Glee club.

Brittany gave her a sympathetic grin, "Just think," she said, "This is our last year. Then we can go wherever we want."

A smile broke over Santana's face. She didn't mind the sound of that.

They continued driving. After about 15 minutes they reached the highway.

There were no cars.

This wouldn't have been weird if they were driving at some obscure time of day, but looking at the dashboard Santana saw it was 7:45am. Peak driving time.

"What the hell is going on," Santana muttered.

Then, out of nowhere a car came zooming by at what appeared to be upwards of 100 miles per hour. The windows were down and the driver seemed to scream something at them.

"OK, WHAT THE HELL!" Santana shouted "See B, don't fucking drink and drive."

She looked over to check on Brittany. She looked pale.

"Hey," Santana said, nudging her by the hand, "what's up?"

"Something's not right," Brittany said slowly, "it doesn't feel right. What's going on with the radios? Why aren't there any cars?"

"I don-" Santana began, before she stopped herself. She was tired of saying "I don't know." So, instead, she kept driving.

They saw the first one when they began to approach the outskirts of Lima. An abandoned car in the middle of the highway. It was on the other side of the road, heading out of Lima. Santana slowed.

"Santana," Brittany warned, "the speed limit."

"Britt, there hasn't been a single car on this road since we saw that maniac, I think we're fine."

As they passed the car they tried to see if anyone was inside. Santana couldn't tell.

"Did you see anything?" Santana asked.

"No," Brittany replied, "and I totally would have. I eat carrots like…every day."

"I know you do, B," Santana said, but her voice was shaky. She felt something brush her and hand and jumped.

"Relax," Brittany said, intertwining their fingers, though Santana could feel that her palm was damp with sweat.

Then they passed another one. And another.

They had passed twenty abandoned cars when Santana came to a stop.

"What happened?" Santana croaked. Her throat felt constricted, suffocating.

She turned to look at Brittany.

"Is this…" Brittany began, "Do you think this could have to do with the quarantine?"

"But that was like…two states over," Santana reasoned, "we've only been gone like eight hours!"

"What else could it be?" Brittany asked.

Santana scoured her mind. Either people were going about their normal routine, driving to work and suddenly abandoned ship, or they were leaving Lima and something stopped them. But where were they now? Santana could see the edge of the town now, and between where they now sat, stationary, and the first building, there had to be at least sixty more cars. They all looked to be abandoned…or, just…empty.

All of a sudden Santana felt a vice-like grip on her arm.

"Brittany! What the hell?" Santana hissed.

Brittany just pointed.

Santana whipped around to see what she was looking. About thirty feet ahead, on the other side of the road, lay what appeared to be a man.

Santana slowly eased her foot on the gas bringing the car forward until they were only a few feet away and then she stopped once again. Brittany was still gripping Santana's arm, and somewhere, in the back of her mind she thought about the bruise that was likely forming.

"Britt," she whispered gently "let go please, I'm going to take a look. Stay here, ok. I think maybe you should try and call your mom or dad, ok…"

Brittany nodded and released her arm as Santana opened the door. "San," Brittany said, before Santana stepped out, "don't touch him."

Santana nodded then got out.

The man was lying on the opposite side of a low metal barrier meant to separate the two directions of traffic. Santana stepped closer to the barrier, and then froze in horror. The man seemed to be middle-age (Santana had always been horrible at guessing ages) and he was most certainly dead. One didn't need to have two doctor parents to figure that out, when you could see a persons exposed heart through a gaping chest wound. Santana heaved. All the strawberries and wine from the night before emptying from her stomach and onto the road barrier. She couldn't look any longer. She couldn't think about what could possibly inflict such an injury. She wiped her mouth and turned back towards the car. Then she heard a noise. It was something between a gurgle and a cough. Slowly, Santana turned back and looked across the barrier to where the man was slowly moving, sitting up.

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

Santana was staring at his heart and it was motionless. Horror began to fill her chest and without thinking she jumped back into the car, locking the doors.

"What was it San?" Brittany said.

Santana stared at her. Never had she felt more conflicted. For as long as Santana had known Brittany, she had made it her duty to keep her smiling, keep her happy. Now, Santana knew that they both stood at the edge of a precipice. They couldn't go back, but, how could they possibly know what they would face if they kept moving forward. How could she tell Brittany, without having her experience that same horror. But, as fate would have it, Santana didn't have to tell Brittany anything because two seconds later, the middle-aged man was upon them. His motionless heart apparent, even with his shaking arms.

"Drive," was all Brittany said.

"B…" Santana said, her voice quaking.

"Fucking drive!" Brittany shouted.

Santana snapped to reality and put her foot down on the gas peeling off down the road. The closer they came to the city, the more compact the cars were, and now there were even some on their side of the road. Smoke was coming out from under the hoods of many, where they had crashed together.

"Did you get a hold of anyone?" Santana asked.

"No, the line was dead" was all Brittany said. "It was the quarantine," she said quietly, "I know it."

"What do we do B..?" Santana found it odd that she was the one that had to ask. But, for whatever reason, it seemed as though, of the two of them, Brittany was more composed, more steady. _What the fuck happened?_

Then came more questions…more thoughts…more panic.

"What about our families? Will they be ok? Fuck B, we weren't there. We weren't there," and Santana gasped as another realization hit her, "My parents, they…they didn't have a car. The other one was in the shop."

"Shhh," Brittany said, her hands rubbing Santana's neck, while her eyes darted quickly around the road, gauging their surroundings.

"We'll go back, your house first," Santana said, firmly. The air felt thick around them, like it was weighing down upon their shoulders. Santana didn't want to know what they would find when they arrived in the city. She didn't want to know what they would find when they arrived at Brittany's house…at her house.

"And if there are more of _them_…I mean, people like that man?" Brittany asked.

"We're in a car…we'll just…keep driving," Santana said, hoping Brittany would believe her fake confidence.

By this point Santana had to slow down considerably, in order to avoid hitting the empty vehicles that littered the streets. Despite the fact that they seemed to have entered some apocalyptic reality, Santana still couldn't help but want to be careful with her dad's car. Yeah, it was ugly, but it was also pretty damn expensive.

A sudden banging brought their attention to a nearby building, out of which four people were walking. Could that even be classified as walking? Why did it seem so…off?

"More," Brittany breathed, "San, faster!"

Closing her eyes for a second, Santana weaved around an abandoned Civic , then a Fiat, before they were finally clear of the jam. At this point the four…people, were they even people? Had begun to make their way towards the Escalade and even though they didn't seem to be running, they were unmistakably making progress. As they raced through city blocks they saw more people, but Santana wasn't able to look and see if they were living or…whatever else they could be. If Brittany noticed, she didn't say.

Finally, they made it to Brittany's neighborhood.

"Brit, we need to talk about what we do if your parents aren't there or…anything" Santana trailed off, not wanting to entertain any other possibilities.

"I know," Brittany said.

"If they're not, we go to my house," Santana says quickly, now that they are only two blocks away.

Brittany nods.

They pass Sam's house and Santana can't help but stare for any sign of life within. Nothing. Dread fills the pit of her stomach. The neighborhood is too still. Most of the driveways are empty, some aren't. Finally, they get to the yellow house, the shutters just as white as Santana remembers. But really, what was she expecting? Smoking remains? _Yes_, a small part of her answers. Slowly, she parks the Escalade in the driveway, which was empty.

"The car is gone," Brittany says quietly. Santana squeezes her hand before opening the front door; she can see Brittany doing the same from the corner of her eye.

Together, they make their way to the front door and instinctively they reach out to grasp each other's hands. To think that at one point all they were doing was linking fingers seems laughable. In any case, they needed a stronger connection to keep them tethered now.

The front door was ajar.

All of a sudden Santana felt exceedingly unprepared. She had no idea what they were doing to find behind those doors, and if there was some sort of…creature, what could they do? Use their fists? Yes, Santana was proud to be from Lima Heights, and with it, she held a certain ferocity in her steps. This ferocity also carried over to her time with the Cheerios. She was in shape, there was no doubt about that, but when it came down to it, she was only roughly 125 pounds and right now she felt damn near fragile. She looked at Brittany, with her head held high, shoulders stiff and back upright. Where did this girl come from? So strong, and so beautiful. She had always been the strong one. Just as she had once promised to make Brittany happy those many years ago, Santana now promised she would be strong. She felt they would need it in these coming hours, days, maybe even weeks.

"Let's go," she whispered, before pushing the door open.

* * *

><p>Upon entry, they were hit with a smell that Santana couldn't quite put her finger on. It was slightly sweet, but quite pungent. It made her already-shaky insides roll. She looked to her left and grabbed the baseball bat Mr. P always had by the door. On multiple occasions Santana remembers him opening the door when she would arrive for playdates, bat in hand, swung high over his head. "What did I say about young hooligans hanging out with my daughter," he would say playfully before ruffling her hair. She would squeak indignantly, puff out her chest and shout "I'm not a hooligan Mr. P!" "Are you sure about that?" he would ask, gently prodding her with the end of the bat. This would continue, until at a certain point Mrs. Pierce or Brittany would come to her rescue. Not that she needed it. She could totally take Mr. P any day.<p>

Now, looking around, Santana couldn't believe the difference. The place was a mess, and they were entering the house with a baseball bat for gods sake. Brittany was shaking as her eyes swept around the entryway. The coat rack appeared broken and jackets littered the ground. To their left, the living room didn't seem to be as disturbed. Ahead, was the staircase leading to the bedrooms. Both girls turned right, heading in the direction of the dining room and kitchen. A couple of chairs lay on their sides and one was broken. Entering the kitchen, the smell was heightened. Cupboards were open and many were empty, the refrigerator door was also open, it's light still on and cool air flowing steadily into the room. Many of the magnets and pictures that had fallen off the fridge and lay scattered across the floor. Santana looked down and picked one up; it was last years Pierce family Christmas card, with all four of them sitting on Santa's lap. She quietly slipped it in her pocket.

Brittany let go of Santana's hand and immediately Santana felt more vulnerable. She gripped the bat with both hands and took a deep breath, this time through her mouth, not sure how much more of the smell she could stomach.

From the looks of things, the Pierce's were packing up, and in a hurry. While the place was a mess, it was less destructive and more hurried, in appearance.

"There's a note," Brittany said.

"Where?" Santana asked sharply.

Brittany pointed to the counter. Santana went to stand beside her. The note was hand-written and messy.

_Honey honey honey, _

_I am so worried for you. I don't know where you are, but I can only hope that if you do see this, that you are safe. I know you are probably scared, but don't be, stay strong. There was a city-wide alarm at 3 this morning. The patients at Site Zero had escaped. They were carrying a virus, it makes them…well, monsters, B. I hope you never have to see one, but, it's likely you will, so here is what we know. The virus spreads through blood-on-blood contact or saliva-on-blood contact mostly. They have been biting people and it has been spreading. It caught on like wildfire once they reached Chicago. That's when people lost control. That's when we received the call. _

_Your dad has taken your sister in the car; they are heading West, towards your Aunt's house in LA. They think that the chances of infection are less, since there is the whole of the Midwest to cross first, and in a lot of areas towns are far and few between. I, well, I stayed behind for you. _

At this point Santana looks up to see Brittany's eyes, wide and fearful. She looked down to continue reading.

_If you're reading this, I have obviously not greeted you with open arms as I so hoped. Do not fear honey, do not despair. Things are happening so quickly that plans change second-to-second. Just know that what doesn't change is our love for you. That is eternal. _

_Be strong, be brave. _

_Love love love,_

_Always, _

_Mom_

A choked sob escaped Brittany's mouth and then she was falling into Santana's arms. The bat dropped from her arms and banged loudly on the floor. Santana cringed. Only then had she realized how quiet and still everything had been. Still, she didn't let go of Brittany, who was quivering as tears ran down her face.

_Be Strong. _

Santana felt a tear form in her eye.

_Be Strong. _

A sound came from the dining hall. A crunching sound, like feet stepping on the pieces of broken chair.

_Be Strong. _

Brittany hiccupped and straightened immediately, looking over Santana's shoulder. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers and her mouth parted, soundless. Santana spun around. Two figures were making their way through the dining hall; one, a teenage boy that Santana didn't recognize, and the other…

Mrs. Pierce.

For a second Santana hoped, for a second she believed. That was, until she saw the blood covering both of them, until she noticed the bizarre gait to their step, until she looked into their eyes and saw…nothing.

"Get behind me, B," Santana snapped, grabbing the bat from the floor.

"San-" Brittany choked out.

"Get behind me!"


	3. Chapter 2

The two figures were on them in a second and before Santana had time to think she swung the bat that was clutched in her hand in a wide arc bringing it down with all her might onto the boy's head. There was a sickening crunch as puss, blood and brain matter sprayed around them. The figure dropped to the floor. Santana couldn't even breathe a second before Mrs. Pierce stepped over the boy's body, reaching for her with arms that were covered in deep, oozing bite marks. She had once looked so much like Brittany; blond hair and blue eyes that tilted slight upwards at the corners, as if she was always smiling, which, she generally was. Now the air was disheveled, and the eyes that were once blue had turned blood red.

Santana attempted to bring the bat up and swing again, but Mrs. Pier-no, the creature, was too close. The blow wasn't nearly strong enough and only caused a slight stumble backwards. It seemed this was it. Dying at the hands of her girlfriend's mother seemed slightly poetic, if not for the fact that, during life, Mrs. Pierce had always loved Santana.

Then, Santana felt the cool handle of a large kitchen knife being pressed in her hand and she understood. There was no way Brittany could do this. No way she could hold the knife and deal the blow. With only a seconds' hesitation, Santana gripped the handle. In that second she felt cold, rotten hands press into her arm, digging, painfully, until, with a jerk she plunged the knife across the throat. The grip loosened and then disappeared entirely. That's when Santana realized she had closed her eyes. Opening them, she looked down to her arm where there was a rip in her sleeve. Her skin was bruised, but not punctured. She let out a sigh before turning around. Her heart broke.

Brittany was pressed as far into the corner of the counters as she could get. Eyes unfocused and arms, limp at her side.

"Oh B," Santana whispered, "I'm so, so sorry."

Santana had no idea what to do. Should she touch her? Would Brittany want her to touch her? Would she want her anywhere near her? Santana had just killed her mom…or, what had been her mom. Did she hate her?

"What do you want from me B?" Santana asked quietly, her hands going instinctively towards Brittany's before halting.

"Take me out of her," Brittany rasped, her voice hollow and empty. And so Santana did.

She led them around the two motionless bodies and through the dining hall to the entryway.

"Britt, I think you're gonna need some different clothes," Santana said hesitantly, eyeing the girl who was still in her sleepwear.

Brittany looked surprised to see what she was wearing before looking up at Santana. Santana looked towards the stairs that lead to Brittany's bedroom. All of a sudden she felt very weak, and small. Of all the things, going up the stairs to Brittany's room seemed like the final straw. Making the same journey she had day in and day out for the past ten years seemed close to impossible. Especially since, in the back of her mind, Santana had the feeling that this would be the last time that they would step foot in this place. Brittany seemed to have similar thoughts as silent tears leaked down her eyes. They grasped hands, and Santana sighed, her chest easing up just slightly. Then, hefting the bat in her left hand, her better hand, Santana made her way up the stairs, bringing Brittany with her.

* * *

><p>It looked as if Brittany's room had been spared the furious scurry of the Pierce's final moments in the house. For the most part, the room was untouched, except, Santana noticed, for the picture that had been on Brittany's bedside table. It had been of the two of them. It captured a rare, candid moment from the time before Santana had openly admitted her feelings. <em>When being gay had seemed like the end of the fucking world<em> Santana thought bitterly. Brittany had had her face pressed to the side of Santana's face, whispering something in her ear, as Santana laughed uproariously, clutching her hand. Now, the picture was gone, much like the other occupants of the house; simply vanished.

"You should grab whatever you think you'll need," Santana said, "I'm not sure when we'll be back here next." _If we'll be back. _

Brittany nodded solemnly, picking up a backpack and looking around the room, seemingly lost.

How does one simply pack up their life?

"You'll want clothes that cover most of your skin for the most part," Santana said, "Layers would be best, I think. If it's true what your mo-, what it said in the letter, then we want to avoid contact like the plague."

Brittany nodded again, this time opening the drawers to her dresser and shoving some clothes in the bag. Finally, when it seemed she had enough, Brittany set her bag down and began to take off her pajamas. Soon, she was there in just her bra and underwear, staring at Santana. Santana stepped forward, rubbing her hands up and down Brittany's arms, slowly stroking them.

"Don't try and be strong when it's just me," Santana said softly, "You have nothing to prove to me. You can let go now, because once we leave this room, this house, we won't have much more time. We're going to have to be strong for each other. But right now, it's just me, and you don't have to hide."

"It's my fault," Brittany said, sadly.

"What is?" Santana asked, though she thought she already knew the answer.

"My mom…" Brittany began, lower lip trembling, "she stayed, she waited for me. Because I was, because…_we _were…"

Guilt washed over Santana in waves, crashing down.

"Britt, I'm sorry," Santana said, "I'm so sorry. If I had known…If I had any idea."

She was trying to justify what they had done, trying to ease the pain, ease Brittany's pain. But, in her mind, the same thought had been rushing through her head: the consequences of their nighttime adventure to the meadow.

"I know," Brittany sighed, "Anyway, I was worried before we left. I thought something bad was going to happen. I could feel it. I wanted to go last night. I…it…it…may have been why my mom waited, why she died. But San, it could also be what saved our lives."

With that, Santana wrapped her arms around the blonde, and they stayed like that. Santana wasn't sure how long they stayed wrapped up in one another, but eventually Brittany pulled back, staring into Santana's eyes.

"I love you," she said quietly, and her voice didn't sound as empty.

"I love you too," Santana said.

Then, looking at the scattered clothed lying on the bed, Santana picked up a long-sleeve, gray shirt before turning back to Brittany.

"Hands up," she motioned.

Brittany lifted her hands, and Santana began to dress her. Shirt, then jeans, and finally some thick, black leather boots.

"Where are these from?" Santana asked, confused.

"Motocross" Brittany said, shrugging.

"They're hot," stated Santana.

For a second, Brittany's eyes twitched upwards, as though to smile, but then the dark cloud returned. Picking up Brittany's bag, Santana looked at her and asked

"You got everything?"

Brittany nodded. They made their way downstairs, careful to avoid looking in the kitchen. Brittany picked up a thick, black leather jacket from its place on the floor and put it on. It looked slightly big around the waist, and Santana had never seen Brittany wear it before, making her believe it had belonged to Mrs. Pierce. She chose not to comment.

When they got outside it was almost startling how bright everything was. How sunny, cheerful, _and deceiving._ That's when Santana remembered that it was still only morning and that, apparently, nature did not change in the face of a zombie apocalypse.

Getting in the car, Santana threw Brittany's bag in the backseat. Once they were both in, they put on their seatbelts and drove away. They drove past Sam's house, then Puck's, then Rachel's. On the way to Santana's house they saw more people, some, Santana was sure were living, others that were not. They didn't stop. _We need to get some weapons if we want even a chance of getting out of here_ Santana thought darkly.

Finally, they pulled up to the gates to Lima Heights, which were swinging uselessly off their hinges. Pulling through, Santana saw Brittany glance at the base of the gates. Her lips quirked upwards momentarily, and Santana wondered if she was thinking about the alleged 'foes' of the Lopez' buried under the soil.

Santana exhaled quietly when they reached her house. The front door was closed. Santana gripped the bat nervously before testing the doorknob. It wasn't locked, and the door swung open. Knowing how anal her parents were about keeping the door locked, Santana hefted the bat. Brittany placed her hand on her lower back, it was a small comfort, but it made all the difference as Santana made her way across the threshold. The house was eerily quite, and it didn't possess the same smell as Brittany's had; a warning of its inhabitants. Cautiously, Santana crept forward and looked around. Nothing was out of place, everything seemingly untouched.

Not for the first time, Santana cursed her parents' need for extravagance as she mentally thought of all the rooms in this house. Even before her brother left for college, the house had seemed far too big. Now, the mass of doors seemed to be taunting her. _Open us, if you dare. _Standing a bit straighter, Santana clenched her jaw. _Afraid to open a fucking door, even if it's just to a closet_ then she smirked a little thinking of an easy comment her Snix would have made in response to that…_ I suppose some things don't change_.

"Ready?" she asked Brittany, though it was more to herself than anyone.

Brittany gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before nodding. Slowly, one by one they checked every room and closet in the house, all with the same result. Each was pristine, immaculate, untouched, and uninhabited. Finally, all that was left was the cellar. _This is where they would be_, Santana thought. _If they were anywhere, this is where they would be_. Still, she couldn't help but bring her mind back to the unlocked front door.

"Last one," Brittany said, gesturing to the door to the cellar.

Santana nodded, and then she opened it.

* * *

><p>The cellar was empty.<p>

The wall of wine and supply of survival provisions remained unchanged from when Santana had been standing there the previous night.

"I don't…I don't understand," Santana said quietly, "It's like they left, but they didn't take anything. They also didn't leave anything, no note. Nothing. Where are they?"

She looked at Brittany helplessly, but the blonde didn't seem have any words for what may or may not have happened to Mr. and Mrs. Lopez.

"Ok, we need…a game plan," Santana said quickly, "we need to figure out what to do." Santana began pacing up back and forth, rubbing her fingers furiously along the side of her face. "Think, think, think," she muttered to herself.

"B?" Santana asked, "Do you know where in LA your aunt lives? Like, if we were to get to the city, could you get us there?"

"Yeah…" Brittany said slowly.

"I think your mom was right, when she said in the letter that it would be safer going through the Midwest, and, well, we don't know where my family is, so it would make sense to follow yours," Santana finished.

With that, Brittany threw her arms around Santana's neck, face buried deep against her shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Of course," Santana said, surprised, "It wouldn't make sense to do anything else. Their my family too."

She could feel Brittany nod in acknowledgment against her neck.

"But first, before anything else, we're going to need to figure out how to get out of this hell hole."

* * *

><p>Brittany and Santana brought all of Mrs. Lopez' provisions up from the cellar and laid them out on the dining room table. It was mostly canned food, some dry mixes and bottled water, but there was also a portable gas stove, that one might take hiking, a hand operated radio, a first aid kit, a fire extinguisher, and a flashlight and batteries.<p>

"What's that?" Brittany asked curiously, pointing to a small, metal box.

"Dunno," Santana replied, opening that latch, before- "Shit," she breathed out.

Inside were two crisp wads of one hundred dollar bills, a 9mm Glock and two boxes containing 50 bullets apiece.

"San…" Brittany began, "what exactly was your mom expecting to happen?"

Her voice sounded slightly amazed. Santana didn't blame her.

"I wonder how much money that is," Santana pondered, "and to think that it has all just been chilling in the cellar, for gods-know how long."

"Well, each strap has one hundred bills, no matter what kind of bill it is, so if those are hundreds, then that's…what, twenty-thousand dollars, right?" Brittany answered.

"How did you know that?" Santana asked, flabbergasted.

Instead of answering, Brittany shrugged her shoulders, lips quirking up for a brief second. Then Santana took the clip out of the gun. It was loaded, with what looked to be…1,2,3…20 bullets. _Not bad mom_, Santana thought wryly before placing the clip back in and checking that the safety was on, then setting it back on the table.

"Ok," Santana said, "This is good. I think we have most of what we'll need. Let me just change and grab some clothes and then I'll be back down."

Santana turned to run upstairs when she felt Brittany grip her arm.

"We don't separate," she said firmly.

Santana was glad that Brittany had suggested this and not her, no matter how much she had wanted to. They made her way upstairs where Santana grabbed an army-style rucksack from her brother's closet.

Santana wasn't going to lie, at certain points in her life she had envisioned what would happen in a zombie-like apocalypse. In her defense, it was hard not to after hours of video games with Puck and the occasional trip to the shooting range with her big brother. But now, with the new smells, and new sounds, Santana mentally scolded herself, as though, by envisioning it, she had helped to make it a reality. As she changed, she came upon the first roadblock: her outfit. Sure, jeans and long-sleeves weren't a problem, but looking in her closet she cursed her lack of practical footwear. Sure, she had leather boots, but she somewhat doubted how easy those would be to maneuver in with the added 3-inch heel. So it was, much to her chagrin that she slipped on her Cheerios sneakers.

Looking around, Santana realized how little there was that she wanted to bring. Most of her clothes seemed impractical, and she had never been huge on keeping personal effects. It was all surprisingly easy to let go of.

"Let's get out of here," Santana said to Brittany, who was sitting on her bed's black, silky sheets. They stepped out, but before closing the door, Santana looked at the wall where she had a few pictures up: one of her family, one of the Cheerios, and one of Glee club. Santana grabbed the one of Glee club, folded it and but it in her pocket next to the Pierce's Christmas card photo.

* * *

><p>Downstairs Santana began divvying up the supplies between their two bags, stuffing the money in the depths of her own, but not before taking twenty bills out and giving ten to Brittany and keeping ten for herself.<p>

"We should at least have some on us in case we loose our bags," Santana reasoned. Though, part of her wondered if there was really any use for money at all anymore.

"Hey B, where do you get your motocross stuff?" Santana asked.

"Umm, there's a shop at the mall," Brittany answered, "Why?"

"Just a thought," Santana replied vaguely, "I think we're going to need to head over there anyway. There are a few things we'll need at that giant sporting goods place before we leave."

Not wanting to spend any more time idling, Santana grabbed her pack, threw it over her shoulders, handed the bat to Brittany before grabbing the gun in one hand and one of the jugs of water in the other. Brittany grabbed another jug and then they were heading out.

* * *

><p>It was approaching 2 by the time they get close to the highway once again. The mall was about half an hour outside of Lima. Once they reached the pile up of cars, Santana froze. The area was crawling with zombies.<p>

"Britt, take this," Santana said, handing Brittany the gun after checking the safety was off.

"San…I've never shot a gun before," Brittany said cautiously.

"Well, I think now is as good a time as ever to learn," Santana said evenly, though her hands were shaking on the wheel. She knew better than to follow the right side of the road, considering that when they had entered the city that side of the road had seemed close to impenetrable. Looking to the left side, Santana estimated twenty figures or so emerging from around empty vehicles. Brittany lowered the window and stuck the top half of her body out.

"Careful B," Santana said.

"Don't worry, my seatbelt is on," Brittany reassured her. Santana didn't have the energy to explain _that _wasn't what she was worried about.

They were roughly one hundred feet away when Brittany fired the first shot. The sound cracked around them and the windshield next to one of the zombies shattered.

"Close," Santana said, "Try for their heads if you can."

Brittany shot another round in acknowledgment, and to her surprise, the figure closest to them dropped.

"Fan-fucking-tastic!" Santana said excitedly. But now they were only about 50 feet about, and the noise had brought visitors. Santana looked in the rear view mirror and confirmed what she already knew: going back wasn't an option anymore.

"Ok, want to do that again?" Santana asked nervously, "maybe about ten more times?"

Then Brittany was firing, once, twice, three times, four. In front of her bodies were dropping down. Not all of them, no, but enough to create a weaker point of entry.

"Hold on!" Santana shouted, and then she stepped hard on the gas and jetting forward. They barreled through a walking corpse and in the process the car hit the corner of the Fiat that they had so carefully passed on the way in. The smaller car spun furiously away from them, knocking down four approaching zombies as it did. Bringing the car sharply to the right, Santana attempted to avoid careening into the parked Civic. She felt the cars scrape against one another and sucked in a breath, narrowing her eyes. Meanwhile, Brittany was shooting left and right, until- a hollow clicking sound filled the car.

"Um San?" came Brittany's worried voice.

"More bullets in the backpacks," Santana said through gritted teeth, "Sidepocket. You'll need to take the clip out and load them each in."

"I don't know how," Brittany said hopelessly.

Santana was having a hard time focusing especially when she saw a figure holding a flaming bottle in its hands on their right side.

"Brittany roll up your window!" Santana shouted.

Brittany did, holding the button, as though the harder she pushed, the faster the glass would come up. Then the projectile was in the air and smashing just where the window was closing. Shards of glass flew through the crack, and Santana felt as one pierced her cheek, unable to take her hands off the wheel. Brittany appeared to be ok, though shaken, and there was a small crack in the window, but other than that, all else was fine.

After barreling over one more figure, they finally made it out of the maze of vehicles and onto relatively open road. Santana scanned from left to right, but couldn't see anything. Her shoulders dropped, and she let out a small groan of relief.

"Are you ok?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Santana reassured her, "Are you?"

"Just hunky dory," said Brittany.

Santana snorted. "Since when have you been such a badass with a handgun?" she asked somewhat suspiciously.

"Lord Tubbington told me to always be prepared," Brittany whispered secretively, "He said that people were going to come steal his secrets and that I should be prepared to protect him. So I Youtube'd all this stuff."

Santana stared at her in amazement, before remembering to turn her eyes back to the road.

"I've never actually held a gun before though," Brittany continued, "but I guess it's all pretty straightforward, isn't it. I mean, I still don't know how to put bullets in and stuff, but, other than that…" she trailed off.

"God, you're hot," Santana said. It was all she could think of.

Brittany smiled. It was a real smile, big and genuine, reaching all the way to her eyes.

"You weren't too bad yourself," Brittany said, "driving like a G." Brittany held her hands out in what were meant to be some sort of gang signs.

"Well," Santana began, with a somewhat cocky tone, "you gots to know how to do this kind of stuff, living in Lima Heights."

"Oh really," Brittany asked teasingly.

"Mmmhmm," was all Santana said, smirking.

After that they drove in silence. Both needed time to process what had just happened, and what the future had in store for them. Santana thanked god that they still had each. She wouldn't know what to do otherwise. In fact, she knew for a fact she wouldn't have made it half as far on her own.

They saw the vast mall sprawling before them. Santana slowed down and pulled to a stop.

"What are you doing?" Brittany asked.

"We should probably figure out our game plan before we go in there. The mall is massive and who knows what all is hiding out there," Santana stated.

They went over the items that they needed and where they would go to get them. It was approaching three in the afternoon, and Santana wanted to be on their way before it got dark, worrying about the first night on their own.

"Also, we should probably go over loading this before we head in," said Santana, nudging the Glock in Brittany's hand.

"Oh right," Brittany said, holding the gun out for Santana to take.

"No…" Santana said slowly, remember how Brittany had handled it earlier, and all the zombies that had fallen "I'm gonna let you hold on to that, I'll just show you what to do."

With that she brought out the ammo and began speaking quickly, glancing at the sun worriedly and then at the expanse of buildings before them.

_So this is what it is going to be like. _

To think that this morning, she had woken up, naked, next to Brittany and was worried about returning the damn car on time.

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	4. Chapter 3

The closer they got to the mall, the more on edge Santana felt. She was already rather out of sorts from exiting on the left hand side of the freeway, after the barrier had prevented them from crossing back over to the right side. Santana prided herself in being somewhat of a rebel, but exiting on the opposite side of the road just felt wrong.

Brittany was staring out of the window, the 9mm clutched tightly in her hands. The car was starting to smell slightly from the residual brain matter clinging to the bat. Santana added Fabreeze and Lysol to her mental checklist.

Santana pulled the car slowly into the entrance to the mall; various buildings and outlets extending far out on either sides of them. The parking lot had surprisingly few cars. Though, when Santana thought about it, not many people were likely to take a trip to the mall at four in the morning when the infected entered the city. Hopefully that was good for them: not many people_, alive or undead_. She took the car to the right and drove for a few minutes before she pulled up to a giant sporting goods store, next to which was _Johnson's Hunting and Fishing_.

"You ready?" Santana asked Brittany, who nodded, gripping the gun in one hand and opening the door with the other.

They cautiously made their way to the front of the hunting and fishing storefront.

"It looks like it's closed," Brittany commented.

Santana looked at her incredulously.

"That didn't stop anybody, it seems," Santana said wryly. The entire glass pane of one of the doors was gone and shards of glass littered the ground. Santana gripped her bat and crossed over the threshold, broken shards crunching beneath her feet.

Before them, aisles extended with various gear: waders, fishing poles, tack, camo-gear, funky looking hats which Brittany seemed to be eyeing appreciatively. Santana's eyes swept past all this until they came to the far wall, where she could vaguely make out the shapes of guns lining the wall.

"Over there," she said, pointing ahead of them.

Brittany nodded, making her way in front of Santana, leading the way down an aisle of high shelves, stock full of hundreds of different kinds of fishing wire and various colored bait. Santana was touched by the small gesture. She didn't like to admit it, but she felt a bit claustrophobic since entering. She didn't like not knowing if anything could be on the other side of the shelves, she didn't like how the sunlight from outside only reached the very front of the shop, she didn- well, there were quite a few things about this situation that she didn't like, but it seemed Brittany understood that. Santana grabbed a thick, camo duffle off the shelf as they passed and brought the strap diagonally across her shoulders.

After a minute, they made it to the back.

"Ok, so what did we need again?" Brittany asked, her voice sounding slightly overwhelmed as it scanned what seemed to be hundreds of guns and racks of ammo. Certain sections of the wall seemed surprisingly empty and Santana wondered if they had just forgotten to restock, or if people had already come in here for the same reason they were.

"Well, I think we should get a couple more guns…" Santana said slowly, "and a shit ton of ammo. Just as a precaution." She added the last bit, not wanting to sound too eager.

"There are so many though, which ones should we get?"

Santana decided that there was no harm in variety. Soon, they had two AR-15 semi-automatic rifles, two more 9mm Glocks, and two Bushmaster pistols lying on the counter.

"What kind of bullets do all of these use?" Brittany asked curiously, brushing her fingers lightly over the various boxes, describing different sizes, weights and grains.

"I have no idea…" Santana admitted.

Brittany chuckled.

"Lord Tubbington didn't happen to tell you, did he?" Santana asked hopefully.

"He didn't, but this probably could," Brittany said, picking up what appeared to be some sort of catalogue from a stack of books. Looking down at the stack, Santana also slipped a book called _Practical Shooting_ into the duffle.

"Ok," Brittany said slowly as her eyes traced the pages, periodically looking up at the wall of boxes for reference. "So it looks like these-" she gestured at a section of boxes, "can be used for the riffles, and these-" she indicated a different portion of the shelves "are what we can use for the handguns."

Santana nodded before checking the shelves and picking out a box of 100, 55 grain bullets. Pausing, Santana looked down at the nearly empty duffel, before grabbing all of the boxes off the shelf and throwing them in the bag. Brittany disappeared for a second before coming back with a similar duffel and placing all the ammunition for the handguns in it. _It couldn't hurt to be prepared_, Santana reasoned as she began loading magazines for the AR-15's. Brittany was pushing bullets into clips to her left. Looking around, Santana grabbed a couple straps and holsters off a nearby shelf and brought them over.

Santana stepped into a holster that had thick straps that wrapped around each thigh and was kept on by a study belt that clipped around her waist. She found that the holster comfortably held both pistols at arms-distance. She experimentally walked back and forth, deciding that she liked the weight. She turned to look at Brittany, who had on a shoulder holster with two Glocks fit snuggly by her ribs on either side. Both guns were almost completely concealed beneath Brittany's leather jacket, with only the handles peaking through. Both girls looked at one another appraisingly; eyes raking each other's bodies.

"Damn B," was all Santana managed to get out before Brittany's mouth was on hers. It seemed Brittany had similar feelings about seeing her girlfriend heavily armed, and Santana couldn't help but thank life-threatening situations for at least bringing that to the table. Brittany moved her hands swiftly under Santana's shirt, raking her fingers across bare skin. Santana moaned as Brittany swiped her tongue across her upper lip. However, even her moan wasn't load enough to cover the sound of something being knocked over a couple aisles down. Santana froze, quickly untangling her fingers from Brittany's hair before swiftly bringing them to rest upon the pistols secured around her hips. Out of the corner of her eye Santana saw Brittany pull the guns of their shoulder harness. Then, there was the sound of approaching footsteps and Santana brought both hands up, pistols held tightly in each. She took a deep breath, but was at least confident in the fact that, with 30-bullet magazines affixed to each, she would probably be able to hit something at least once.

As the footsteps got louder, Santana's grip tightened, her fingers lightly touching the trigger.

Then there were voices.

It wasn't much, and it certainly wasn't loud, but it was unmistakably the sound of hushed whispers.

"Do zombies talk?" Brittany said quietly.

Santana shook her head slowly.

"Come out!" Santana called sharply, and she heard a quick intake of breath, "and do it slowly," she added "we've got some pretty heavily loaded guns, and well, who knows, I might just be trigger happy."

"Wait..is…is that..Santana?" a voice came out shakily. Santana's hands dropped immediately, Brittany's didn't.

"Who the _fuck_ is that?" Santana asked, in shock.

Then, two figures made their way out of the aisle. Brittany's arms lowered and soon she was clasping both guns back in their holster before launching herself at the figures.

"Kurt!" she yelled, "Sam!"

"SHHHH!" Kurt, Sam, and Santana all said, cringing as Brittany's voice seemed to reverberate around them. Brittany looked guilty as she pulled back.

Sure enough, there were Kurt and Sam, both with backpacks on and Sam carrying a-

"Is that a bow?" Santana asked incredulously, not sure whether to laugh or not. In fact, she really had no idea what she was feeling at the moment. All Santana knew was that her heart hadn't beaten this wildly since they encountered the zombies on the highway, only this time, she was pretty sure it was a good thing.

Sam at least had the decency to look embarrassed before muttering something about Avatar. Just like that Santana felt, for a brief moment, that she was back in the halls of McKinley, preparing to give Sam a light, verbal smackdown, but then she noticed the dirt on their face, and scuffmarks on their clothing. For once, it appeared Kurt was wearing something practical; Santana hadn't even realized the boy owned a pair of jeans. Other than that, they both had on long sleeve shirts and thick twill jackets. Santana could see a harness, similar to Brittany's, strapped around Kurt's shoulders, but instead of guns it held four knives. That's when she realized where they were.

"Why are you here?" was the first question out of Santana's mouth, only to be followed by "Where's the rest of your family?"

A look of pain crossed Kurt's face when he looked at her before he opened his mouth and said, "We split up."

Feeling there was more to the story, Santana waited silently. She looked down to where her fingers clutched Brittany's. When did that happen? Brittany didn't look at her, but Santana felt a small squeeze.

"This morning, it was total madness," Kurt began, "Well, I suppose you guys know, obviously."

"Actually," Brittany said, "We don't. We were out of Lima until almost 8am this morning. We came back and everyone was either already gone or…infected."

Before Kurt could ask them any questions, Santana interrupted and said "Look peaches, we'll tell you all the sappy details in due time, but can you just tell us what happened. All we know is that at 3am there was warning call or something and then people started leaving."

Kurt nodded in confirmation before continuing, "yeah, we got the call too. It was some automated message from the government, I think. My dad was the one who picked up and he didn't really explain verbatim what was happening. But, basically, the gist of things, you probably already know…the quarantine breakout, infection…"

Santana and Brittany nodded.

"Yeah.." Kurt continued, "So dad just told us to grab a backpack and throw some clothes and stuff in them. It was Finn, Carol, my dad, and I. My dad has this weird sense of duty to the people of Lima, well, at least to the kids in glee club, so when we left the house, he drove by everyone's houses that were on the way to the highway. We swung by your house Britt," Kurt acknowledged, and Brittany looked up, surprised.

"The car was already out of the driveway, so they must have left pretty quickly," Kurt explained.

"That's a good thing," Sam said with a smile.

Brittany nodded, and Santana could see something akin to hope flicker in her eyes.

"Anyways, Sam's was next…and, well…"he trailed off.

"My parents don't have a car," Sam explained bluntly.

"We were in a car meant for 5, not 9," Kurt continued. "Finn and I got out to make room for Sam's siblings, and then Sam's dad went taking off to their neighbors, where the garage was open. They had two cars and I think he was hoping we could use one. You know, dire times, right? But the thing was, the neighbors had already been infected. The second Mr. Evans got there they were on him."

Santana shot a look at Sam, who was staring determinedly at the ground.

"Sam ran after him, and I…I ran after Sam."

There was something about that that caused Brittany and Santana to share a questioning look, but neither of them said anything. Then Sam began to speak.

"There were only two of them, but by the time I got to the garage they had already bitten him. There was a shovel hanging on the wall, so I used it to bash both their heads in. By the time I got to my dad, his eyes were already bloodshot and his skin was turning a weird grey color. He told me to kill him… My own dad. I couldn't. Kurt had made it to me by that point and told me to get in the neighbor's car. There were other infected on the streets by that point. I don't know how they move so quickly. Anyway, Kurt shouted at Burt that we would follow them. We left my dad there. We were behind the other car for most of the way, but then when we got to the highway it was madness. There were cars everywhere, horns going off, and then, there were the people running over the tops of cars, trying to escape the infected. At a certain point we just…lost them. There was no way anyone would have been able to keep track." Sam said sadly.

Santana thought briefly of Finn and found her heart twinge with regret. Sure, when Finn had outed her she had been pretty freaking pissed. I mean, who does that? Hell, she could have outed him for years, but no, she chose to be the better person and keep his lesbianism a secret. Now where's her fucking award? Still, he had been like her own personal stress ball; soft, doughy and pliable, always the first to experience her aggression, but…always there for her nonetheless. Silently she prayed that they had made it out.

"Kurt did some mad off-roading then," Sam said, with what sounded like pride in his voice. Did Kurt freaking blush? Oh, Britts and her were going to have a fun conversation about this later, Santana knew it already.

"He got us out of the thick of things and took us parallel to the highway, but a bit further out."

"Unfortunately, I don't think Prius's are made for off-roading," Kurt said sardonically.

"Yeah, I guess they aren't," Sam agreed, "because like ten minutes later we hit something and the car stopped moving."

"And smoke started coming out from under the hood," Kurt supplied.

"So we got out," Sam added.

_Was it strange that they were talking like one person?_ Santana thought.

"Then it blew up," Kurt finished dryly.

"Oh my god," Brittany exclaimed.

"You've got to be kidding me," Santana said.

"Nope," Kurt sighed, "Why else do you think I would have dirt on my face, if not because, in an attempt to protect myself from a blazing cannonball, I threw myself face-first into the ground?"

"I was wondering about that," Brittany said, some of the confusion lifting from her face.

"Anyway, by that point, there was no use going back to Lima," Kurt said, "So we slowly made our way here, with the hope of finding some supplies and maybe a vehicle. It took us the better part of the morning to get here though, since we were on foot."

Santana was in shock at the end of their tale. She had no idea what to say.

"So do you wanna, like, band together?" Brittany suggested hopefully, "we have a car."

"Yeah," Sam said, a small smile gracing his features. It was interesting that anything having to do with his absurdly large mouth could be called small, _But then again, _Santana thought, _these are different times. I suppose a lot of things are going to change_.

* * *

><p>Santana hadn't realized how much time they had spent standing at the back of the store when she looked down at her watch. It was approaching 4. She quickly explained what more they needed.<p>

"I think you guys are set on the weapons," Kurt said, and Santana was happy to hear a trace of fear in his voice as he took in her and Brittany's appearance before glancing at the two riffles on the counter and bags full of ammo.

"Are you?" Santana asked, pointedly looking between the knives Kurt was carrying and the hunting bow slung across Sam's shoulder.

"I think we are," Sam said, "Kurt is wicked fast with those guys, and make fun of me all you want Santana, but I'd rather like knowing I'm going to hit something with one of these," he pointed to an arrow, "than waste twenty of your bullets."

"Fair enough," Santana said, not wanting to waste any more of their time.

With that, they threw the extra 9mm in a bag and Brittany and Santana each slung a riffle over their shoulders.

"This look may be more frightening than even the Cheerios uniform," Kurt commented.

Santana snorted.

They exited the store and deposited their bags in the back of the car.

Sam let out a small whistle, "Nice wheels."

Santana looked at the car indifferently, though she supposed it's recent additions made it look slightly more badass: a large scratch spanning the entire left side from where they scraped the Civic and what was, unmistakably, remnants of human flesh stuck to the front grill. Santana grinned wickedly.

They hurried into the neighboring sporting goods store and grabbed two small, portable tents, some sleeping bags, a couple water filter pumps, about every map in stock, a large, clear jug, and some tubing.

"What's that for?" Sam asked Santana, nodding to the coil of thin, clear plastic tubes in her hands and the plastic jug.

"You'll find out soon enough Samwise," Santana replied coyly.

They made a quick loop around, making sure they had everything they needed. Santana threw a stick of chapstick at Sam's head, and he caught it, grinning. Then Brittany pulled Sam up in front with her, and they began speaking in low voices. Brittany had her hand on Sam's back and Santana saw her rubbing gently on his shoulders.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked.

"We went back to our houses," Santana explained quietly, "We had no idea what had happened. I guess Britt's mom had stayed back for her, but by the time we got there, she was already infected. I mean, even though we-" she gestured between herself and Kurt "-don't know where our parents are right now, don't know what's happened to them, at least we didn't need to see them like that."

Kurt's eyes were soft and sympathetic as he nodded.

"I'm glad we ran into you guys," he said softly.

Santana didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. He knew how much she cared.

"Hold up," Santana said as they made their way to the exit and ran back to where she had seen motorcycle gear in the corner.

Five minutes later she was back with boots, not too unlike Brittany's, and a smile on her face.

"So scary," Kurt said. Sam nodded.

"So hot," Brittany murmured and Sam nodded once again.

* * *

><p>This time, they threw most of their things in the trunk, so that there would be room for two in the back seat.<p>

"Why did we get those sleeping bags when there are all these blankets and pillows back here?" Sam asked, confused.

Santana had forgotten about those. She looked at Brittany sadly, as they remembered the previous night.

"They're not portable," Santana said, "If, for some reason, we have to leave the car, there's no way in hell we're caring those with us."

She began walked away from the car, the jug and tube in her hand.

"Come on Trouty Mouth," Santana called over her shoulder, "I'm gonna need those luscious lips of yours."

* * *

><p>"Oh god!" Sam spluttered, spitting furiously as he took his mouth away from one end of the tube, the other end situated comfortably in the tank of an empty car in the lot. Gas began flowing into the jug and Santana looked on approvingly. She had noticed they were low when they got to the mall.<p>

"Wonderful!" Santana said, pulling the tube out as they got close to full.

Sam glowered at her.

"Look, I'm sorry Sam," he gave her a sharp look, "oh, not for that," Santana said, gesturing at the jug of gas, "We've got to use your mouth for something. No, I'm sorry about what happened, to your dad and I'm sorry you got separated from the rest of your family."

"It's not your fault," Sam said, but his eyes were glistening.

"Yeah, I know," Santana said, "But it just…sucks," she finished lamely.

"It does," Sam said quietly. "Brittany told me about what happened."

Sam caught Santana's eye, "with her mom," he clarified.

When Santana didn't say anything, he continued, "Not a lot of people would have the strength to do that, you know. And I'm not talking physical strength. We all know you're mad buff," he gave her little grin, "But, I know Mrs. Pierce was like a mom to you too. So that can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," Santana stated, wanting to change the subject. "We should probably go. As much as I would love to sit and have girl talk, the sun is going to set pretty soon and I want to get as far away from here as possible before it does."

Sam agreed and they made their way back to the car, where Kurt and Brittany were talking.

"Though, that brings up a point," Sam said, "Where exactly are we going? Do we have a plan?"

"Well, we were going to head west," Santana said, "towards LA. That's where Britt's family was going."

"Ok…" Kurt began slowly, "I think west is a good idea, but LA is really far away. In the recording they mentioned some military bases that would be providing shelter, we wrote them down." Kurt dug a scrap of paper out of his pocket, on which were about ten locations.

"Maybe," Kurt said hesitantly "we could have one in the middle or something, that way, if things are really rough, we would have somewhere to go."

Santana looked at Brittany, who nodded.

"That sounds good," Santana said.

"Great!" Kurt exclaimed. "I think the one in Illinois will be too dangerous to get close to, seeing as that's where the infection started, but maybe this one," he said, pointing to a base_. Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri._

"Ok," Santana said.

"Ok," they all repeated, before climbing in the car. This time, as they approached the highway, Santana made sure to enter on the right side of the dividing barrier before speeding away.


	5. Chapter 4

**a/n: Thanks for reading and for those of you who have reviewed. Sorry this update took longer than the last few. School. **

**I would really appreciate it if you could take a second to let me know what you think. (Incentive to get updates out there faster.) **

**What would you like to see more/less of? There is flexibility to a certain extent. **

**A couple people expressed interest in fanart. For that, I do have a tumblr (url: ponderwander). I have posted some stuff which you can find on there. **

**Cheers! **

* * *

><p>They had been driving close to two hours, with Kurt giving directions from the backseat where he and Sam were sitting. Santana wasn't driving as quickly as she would have under normal circumstances; worried that, if she did, she might miss something and drive them all into some sort of death trap. About half an hour after they had left the mall, Santana pulled off of the highway and onto a smaller, interstate road. While their progress was much slower and Santana had been slow to agree, Kurt mentioned that it might behoove them to ere on the side of caution when faced with a zombie apocalypse. Santana hadn't said anything in response, though when they got off the highway, she caught Kurt's eye in the rearview mirror and he flashed her a grateful smile.<p>

Brittany had fallen asleep in the passenger seat not long after exiting the highway. Her left hand remained tight in Santana's, and her right hand was placed firmly on the handle of her gun. It was interesting how quickly survival instincts seemed to kick in, Santana mused sadly, as she glanced over once more at Brittany's form before turning back to the road. The sun was setting and they needed to find somewhere to stay the night. They had all agreed that their main priority was to stay away from cities or town centers, for they were likely to be the most infected areas. Santana just hoped they had given Indianapolis a wide enough berth. So far, they were doing ok, with only a few sightings of infected when they passed through small towns. In all cases Santana made sure to zoom by. They weren't trying to save the fucking nation; they were just trying to survive after all.

After scouring the surrounding landscape, Santana made her way to the next exit, which led them to a narrow, one-way street.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, lifting himself closer to the front seat.

"I think it's about time we stopped for the night," Santana said.

"But it's not even 6," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, but the sun is almost gone and honestly, I'm pretty fucking tired," Santana said, her voice more clipped than she had intended it to be. Sam said nothing as he brought himself back in his seat.

"Where are we staying?" Brittany's drowsy voice piped up, as she slowly straightened herself up, stretching out her back.

"I saw a small farm house down the road a ways," Santana motioned with her head.

"Do you think there'll be people there?" Kurt asked slowly.

"I'm not sure," Santana said, sighing, "but I figured, if there are people, then that's good. Right? If there aren't, then we can just use their kitchen. I'm fucking starved and don't want to have to wait two hours for this camping stove to bring water to a boil. You dig?"

"Yeah…" Kurt said slowly, "but what if the people there are infected?"

"Honestly, I think it's a little idealistic to think we might make it all the way to the West Coast without encountering any infected. Might as well practice now. Besides…it's one house," Santana explained, glancing at him in the mirror "how many infected could there even be?"

After a couple minutes, the small house appeared on their right. It was surrounded by pasture and Santana could just make out a small barn with a couple cows mulling about.

"Are there such things as zombie cows?" Brittany asked.

"I never thought I would say this Britt, but I was wondering the exact same thing," Kurt remarked dryly.

"I don't think so," Sam said slowly, "I think if push came to shove, a zombie might eat an animal, but they would definitely prefer human flesh. Also, I don't think the animal would then get infected. Anyways, animals avoid zombies just like humans, except, I expect they are a bit better at it."

"I have no idea what to say to that," Kurt said, looking a mix between amused and incredulous.

"What?" Sam said indignantly, "I might be active on a couple forums about this stuff. So what?"

"No comment," Kurt said haughtily.

"That was definitely a comment," Brittany whispered in Santana's ear.

"Let's just get out of this damn car," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

The four of them stepped out of the car and walked over towards the front of the house, which had a small front porch, fully equipped with rocking chair and porch swing.

In the distance Santana heard a cow moo. A slight breeze carried with it the smell of sprawling fields and manure.

"Come on," Santana said briskly, making her way to the front door, arm outstretched.

"San!" Brittany said sharply, and Santana spun to look at her.

"You have to knock first," Brittany reprimanded, "It's the polite thing to do."

Sam sniggered, attempting to mask it with his hand.

Santana held back saying "seriously" and instead brought her knuckles up to rap loudly on the door. She cringed at the noise. It was only then that she realized how eerily quiet it had been since they had left the mall. No cars. No humans. No nothing. To get to the point where she flinched at the sound of her own fist knocking on wood. That was plain ridiculous. Santana brought her hand up again, but before she could do anything they heard a different noise, coming from the side of the house.

Zombies.

Eight of them.

"Of course this house just _had _to belong to the Van Trap fucking family!" said Santana, here voice slightly higher than usual.

And before she could say anything else, the zombies were on them, forming a semi circle around the small group of friends.

Santana reached for her guns, but her hands were shaking and she couldn't seem to find the clip to the holster.

_Panic. _

The two boys stepped forward first.

Santana's eyes darted up just in time to see Kurt holding two of his knives, spinning them in his hands before slamming one hard through the side of the nearest zombie's head, right into the ear.

There was a distinguishable _crunch. _Santana almost vomited right then. One figure already lay on the ground with an arrow sticking out between its eyes. Santana's eyes flicked to where Sam was pulling yet another arrow taut against the string. With a *twang* the arrow shot through the air at an approaching zombie, cutting clear through the throat and effectively stopping its progress. _Damn Sam was fast_.

Finally Santana managed to find the clip and undo it. Immediately, she grasped both pistols and didn't hesitate pointing at the closest figure, which was now only a few feet away. She was pretty sure one of the shots missed.

Good thing she had two guns.

Santana heard a grunt and spun around to see Brittany grimace as a much larger zombie, clad in a plaid shirt and jeans, latched onto her arm, moving forward. Santana immediately brought her guns up, but was unable to get a clear shot. Before she could do anything, Brittany's elbow connected with the zombie's chest, hard enough for it to momentarily let go. In that second Brittany brought one of her guns swiftly beneath it's chin and released the trigger, brain matter splattering on the porch ceiling and house walls.

Kurt was grappling with what had presumably been the wife, of this monstrous family, as she was clad in a floral dress and blood-splattered apron. She was clawing at his arms, and leaning forward. Finally, freeing his right arm, Kurt swung his hand back before plunging his second knife through the zombie's eye.

Santana held out her right palm, still clutching a pistol to steady her left, more-confident hand. Sam was fumbling with an arrow as one of the remaining zombies closed in on him. Santana wasted no time in squeezing the trigger and the zombie toppled forward on to Sam, who grimaced, but managed to stay afoot.

It was in that moment, that Brittany pointed her gun at Kurt and pulled the trigger.

Santana froze.

Sam's eyes were open in horror.

An expression of shock marred Kurt's face.

Brittany's mouth was set in a hard line.

Then, the body of the final zombie dropped from its place, not even two inches behind Kurt.

Kurt's eyes rolled back and he fainted.

* * *

><p>Brittany suggested smelling salts, but it turned out a quick slap to Kurt's cheek worked just as well. And hey, Santana was happy to oblige.<p>

"What the f-" Kurt began, coming to.

"It's ok, you can swear," Santana said, with a sickeningly encouraging tone, "I'm pretty sure my virgin ears can take it."

But Kurt wasn't looking at Santana, he was looking at Brittany.

"You shot me," he accused.

"No I didn't," said Brittany, sounding offended and confused.

"You so did," he pressed.

"No…" Brittany said slowly, again, as though speaking to a child, "I shot the zombie that was right behind you."

"Yeah…but," Kurt said, spluttering as though trying to find the appropriate words, "how in the world could you have known you were going to make that shot."

"I didn't," Brittany said, shrugging, "but, I mean, it would have gotten you otherwise, so what else was I going to do."

Kurt looked incredulous.

"Hey," Sam sad gently, nudging him, "It's fine. We're all fine."

Kurt propped himself on his elbows, and Sam, who was behind him let out a small chuckle.

"What?" Kurt asked waspishly.

"You're not going to like it," Sam said.

"Just tell me!" spat Kurt.

"It's just…your entire back is like…covered in blasted-off zombie parts."

Kurt looked like he was about to faint again, so, in order to prevent that from happening, Santana slapped him swiftly across the cheek once again.

"San!" Brittany said sharply, giving her a stern look.

"What?" Santana said, defensively, "He looked like he was going to pass out. I was only helping."

Brittany sighed, shaking her head.

It was then that Santana took a moment to really assess their situation. She looked around and was greeted by the sight of eight rotten bodies lying haphazardly on, and around the front stairs of the porch.

"I'm hungry," Santana said.

"Really?" Kurt said, "That's all you have to say."

"I'm not really sure what else there is to say," Santana said flatly, "I mean. Yay, go team. First successful zombie slaying."

She waved her hands around in mock celebration.

"Ok, there. Done. Now, let's check inside, make sure we're clear of more, then I wants to get some serious food inside my belly."

"I'm really hungry," Brittany agreed, a small pout on her face.

"They're thinking about food…" Kurt said, looking at Sam for support "I can't believe they are thinking about food right now."

"I mean…" Sam began somewhat hesitantly, "We haven't really had anything to eat all day."

"How can you possibly think about food, when no less than eight rotten corpses are sitting a foot away from you," Kurt asked.

"I dunno, I can always think about food," Sam said.

"Preach," Brittany chimed in.

Kurt merely shook his head.

The four of them got up, from where they had been kneeling, Sam giving Kurt a hand, and then they entered the small farmhouse.

Santana lead the way, a pistol in both hands.

Luckily, there weren't too many rooms to go through, despite the apparent size of the family. When they had checked all the rooms and found nothing, they returned to the kitchen.

"Hey," Sam called from his position in front of the refrigerator, "they have steak in here!"

"Hell yeah, that's what I'm talking about," Santana said delightedly.

None of them wanted to stay inside. Everything felt too raw, and yet, too removed within the little house. It was unclear whether the tousled sheets on the beds were from a rushed attempt to flee the premise, or from the already-infected hands of another family member. All Santana knew was that looking at the framed photographs and then thinking to the pile of bodies out front made her want to be sick, and she wasn't about to vomit with the promise of steak in the near future.

"I think I have everything," Sam called, carrying a tray with food taken from the kitchen.

They had thought it best not to touch the rations they had in the car, when there was fresh food available.

Nudging the door open with his hip, Sam led the way out to the porch, where there was a small grill.

"Now ladies," Sam began.

Kurt coughed.

"_And_ gentle_man_," Sam amended, with a smile, "just sit back and let Sam take care of this for you."

"My hero," Santana swooned, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sam just smiled.

* * *

><p>Santana hated to admit it, but Sam was a fucking incredible cook.<p>

Either that or everything tasted better after having multiple near death experiences, she couldn't tell which. All Santana knew was that food had never made her moan that loud before.

Brittany raised an eyebrow in her direction and Santana felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

Sam merely chuckled, but chose not comment.

The steak was lightly seasoned and cooked to perfection, with grilled carrots, zucchini and squash on the side. Brittany had found a fresh loaf of bread in the pantry, and Kurt, surprisingly, brought a six-pack of beer out of the fridge.

Once they had finished, Santana resituated herself, with her legs placed horizontally across the porch swing and Brittany's body lying in between her legs, back pressed to Santana's front, with Santana's arms wrapped protectively around her. Both Kurt and Sam were leaning back, with their elbows resting on the porch railing.

"No one ever tells you," Kurt said softly, after a long period of silence.

The sun had almost set, and now they were left in dim light of dusk.

"Tells you what?" Santana inquired.

"I know I have the technical finesse, but it's not that at all, is it? I mean, no one ever tells you what it's like to kill a zombie by stabbing it through the ear. Sure, they'll say 'that's what works,' but they won't tell you about the actual, physical feeling of a knife cutting through cartilage, bone, fat and brain matter…will they?" Kurt said.

"Ew," Brittany said, a frown on her face, as she leaned over Santana's legs so she could place her beer on the ground.

"Brit, you totally blasted the brains out of a zombie less than an hour ago," Sam reminded her.

"Yeah, but I don't like…use words to describe it," Brittany said.

"Sorry," Kurt said, though he didn't sound sorry.

"It's all good dude," Sam said, lightly patting his back, "I totally get where you're coming from. This is a messed up situation we're in."

Kurt nodded stiffly.

Brittany yawned.

"That reminds me," said Santana, shifting gears, "what do we want to do about tonight, with sleeping arrangements and whatnot."

"Well, I don't really want to sleep in the house," Sam said.

"I think we are all agreed on that one," Kurt said.

"Well, the back of the car is already set up for sleeping," Santana reminded them.

"Right," Sam nodded, "I'll get some stuff out of the car so that Kurt and I can take first watch."

"Why two of you?" Santana asked quickly, "One of you could sleep."

"I don't mind," Kurt said, adding "My hearts moving a little too fast for me to sleep now anyway. We'll keep each other company."

Santana stared at him.

"I'm gonna get some stuff out of the car," Sam said slowly, still watching Santana as she stared openly at Kurt.

"I'll make sure the bed is ready," Brittany offered, giving Santana's thigh a squeeze, indicating that she was getting off the swing.

Santana nodded, moved her legs, and watched as the two of them moved off of the porch, carefully stepping over the bodies piled around the stairs.

Once they were safely out of hearing range, Santana's eyes moved back to Kurt's.

"Ok," she said firmly, "spill."

"What are you talking about Santana?" Kurt asked, somewhat wearily.

"Well, I know that tough times bring people together, but please, help me out if you will. What the hell is going on between you and Sam?" Santana asked.

Kurt opened his mouth and Santana could tell he was going to play the "I have no idea what you're talking about" card, so before he could say anything she brought up a finger to silence him.

"Also, I just want to say that your answer could either bring out Auntie Tana or Snix, depending on how truthful you want to be," Santana said, her voice somewhat menacing.

Kurt gulped and seemed to be fighting some internal battle. It seemed the more rational side won.

"Ok then…" he began, his voice quiet and secretive "Do you remember the party that Rachel threw last year?"

"I wish I didn't," Santana said, "but yeah."

"Well," Kurt began, his cheeks growing red, "Sam and I sort of made out."

"Seriously?" Santana laughed, then "Wait a second, I was totally dating Sam then! Asshole."

Kurt threw Santana a look that screamed "are you kidding me".

"What?" Santana said defensively, "I kind of almost even liked him then. You are a total homewrecker!"

"No, Santana," Kurt sniggered, "I think you had that one in the bag. Maybe you aren't remembering the party as clearly as you thought, because one second you and Britt's were there, making out with your respective beards. The next second, both of you were gone and Brittany's bra was hanging off one of Rachel's mic stands."

"Right…" was all Santana could say, lamely.

Then another thought crossed her mind, "Weren't you trying to get all up on Blaine's magic stick that night."

Kurt cringed at her choice of vocabulary before saying "Yeah, well, that night he seemed far more interested in Rachel than me."

"And so… Sam offered you…what, a hug with his lips?" Santana asked sarcastically.

"No, he drove Blaine and I back to my house," Kurt said, "Then he helped me carry Blaine to bed. I walked him out to his car, and…well…" he trailed off.

"Got the picture, thanks," Santana said.

"Hey, you asked," Kurt pointed out.

Santana made a non-committal grunt.

"So is that it?" she asked "You guys made out once and now you're like, gay buddies?"

However, Sam and Brittany chose that moment to come back and Kurt shook his head at her, indicating that their conversation was, for the moment, over.

"Kurt," Brittany said quietly, looking at her feet.

"Yeah Britt?"

"I'm really sorry I scared you earlier," Brittany looked up hesitantly.

"No," Kurt sighed, "I'm sorry. You saved me. I should be thanking you, really. I just wasn't prepared for it."

"I don't think any of us were," Sam said.

They all gave small nods of agreement.

"Ready?" Brittany asked Santana, extending her hand towards her.

"Yeah, let's get to bed," Santana said.

"We'll come get you in a few hours," Sam said.

"Just me," Santana said, "Let B sleep, I'm fine on my own."

Brittany made a noise of protest, but Santana shook her head firmly.

The two of them made their way over to the car and pulled themselves in the back.

Santana pulled off her jacket and boots and Brittany did the same.

A wave of exhaustion hit Santana and she would have crumpled right then, had Brittany's strong arms not found themselves around her waist, holding her up in a sitting position.

"Hey," Brittany cooed, "you're ok."

"This is so fucked up B," Santana rasped.

"I know," Brittany said, bring a hand up to stroke her cheek.

"How did everything turn to shit so quickly?" Santana asked, staring imploringly into Brittany's eyes.

Brittany just shook her head and shrugged. Then, Brittany brought her hand down from Santana's face, to her chest, pushing her back gently, while making sure that her other arm kept supporting her. Santana's back fell into the soft blankets and pillows. Brittany followed her down, body molding into Santana's.

"You don't have to be strong around me," Brittany whispered, her mouth so close to Santana's that it was as though the words were being shared between them; an echo of what Santana had told Brittany what seemed like ages ago, but which, in reality, had only been earlier that day.

"I always have to be strong around you," Santana said, as one tear managed to escape and trickle down her face.

"Oh baby," Brittany said, her voice laced with sympathy.

Santana felt the arms tighten around her waist and she threw her head into crook of Brittany's neck as more tears began to flow.

She had never felt so broken.

Brittany's hands made their way under Santana's shirt and along her sides, rubbing tight knots from her back as she went. Santana lifted her face from Brittany's shoulder and could see her own tears mimicked in the other girl's eyes. Santana lifted her arms up and, as though on instinct, Brittany brought the shirt over her head before placing it with the rest of Santana's clothing. Santana quickly helped Brittany do the same. Then, they both took their pants off until they were clad only in bra and underwear. Even when facing such a horrible reality, they were still Brittany and Santana, and they had never required many words to communicate.

Santana thanked the raised sides of the trunk bed, which afforded them some modicum of privacy.

"Sam and Kurt are probably making out," Santana sniffled.

"Good for them, if they are," Brittany said quietly, "That would be the right idea."

Then Brittany's lips were on hers.

It was a different kind of kiss. It wasn't preluded by a smile as Brittany was so prone to doing. This kiss was hard and firm, and more grounded in reality than Brittany's kisses had ever been. Whenever they had made out before, even if they were fighting, Santana would be the one pressing their lips firmly together, nipping at Brittany's mouth, and Brittany would be the one to press feather light kisses in response, until Santana calmed down. That airiness and pleasant disregard for the bad things happening around them seemed to be gone. The sadness and desperation threatened to engulf Santana.

"Kiss me like you used to," she pleaded as her arm pulled frantically on Brittany's arms.

"I don't know if I can," Brittany choked out.

Santana tried to take a calming breath, but her throat seemed to close up. She gasped for air. She felt as though she was suffocating. Santana pushed herself out of Brittany's arms, but rather than helping, she lost what little control she had over the panic that was gripping painfully at her chest. Her cheeks were still damp, as she curled in on herself, small black spots fogging her vision.

Then, Santana felt Brittany grab both her arms and pull them above her head, moving so that Santana was on her back, with Brittany straddling her waist. Pulling Santana's arms together so she could hold them with one hand, Brittany brought the other hand down to Santana's chest, directly above her heart.

"I know it hurts here," Brittany said. Her voice sounded distant in Santana's ears.

Then, Brittany leaned down, and pressed her open mouth where her hand had been.

"It hurts me there too."

Santana stared, wide-eyed, at Brittany, breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

"Breath…" Brittany said soothingly, pressing her lips down once again, and effectively bringing her body flush against Santana's.

Slowly, Santana's heartbeat began to calm.

Minutes passed and neither girl moved.

Santana's vision cleared, and all she could see was Brittany.

"I can't ever lose you," was all she said.

* * *

><p><strong>hope you liked! Now let me know your thoughts! <strong>

**More to come soon! **


	6. Chapter 5

**a/n: apologies for the long delay. It has been a hectic month. Midterms, applications, you know the drill. Anyways, this is a tad bit longer than previous chapters so I hope that will help make up for it. As always, reviews are much appreciated. It's great hearing what you think. Cheers! **

* * *

><p>Santana awoke to a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. It was Kurt, and he was looking extremely uncomfortable. Of course, this made sense, considering her and Brittany were dressed in almost nothing and were completely wrapped up in one another. In fact, Santana was impressed Kurt could figure out which shoulder to squeeze.<p>

"Time?" she managed to croak out.

"It's about 3 in the morning," he whispered.

He looked exhausted; as though the adrenaline from the previous day had finally worn out. Perhaps he too had been hit with the same realization as Santana had a few hours ago, before going to sleep.

"Ok, I've got it, get some rest," she said, slowly beginning to untangle herself from Brittany's sleeping form. Brittany mewled softly, a pout forming on her lips. Santana couldn't resist leaning in and softly brushing her lips across the sleeping girl's. Kurt looked away. The pout disappeared, and for a second Brittany looked no different than she had at their countless sleepovers growing up: beautiful and unencumbered. At least Brittany could take solace in the fact that her dreams afforded her some shelter from reality. Santana envied that, for her mind had not stopped racing, despite the weariness that had eventually pulled her into the darkness. That was all that sleep was: darkness. No different than what their days had become.

Santana pulled herself up and pulled on her shirt and pants. Kurt had stepped down from the trunk bed to allow her some privacy, which Santana found amusing, considering that, heaven-forbid, should Kurt catch a glimpse of her body, it would be about as threatening as a glance from the most pious grandmother at her church. Hopping out, Santana approached Kurt and Sam, who were both standing by the side of the car.

"Everything's there," she gestured to the back, "And there should be enough room for all three of you."

"Thanks," Sam said, looking just as tired as Kurt, "I think we'll use our sleeping bags though, who knows what's been going down in those blankets."

"Or who…" Kurt muttered softly.

Santana shoved him playfully, and he managed a small grin. With that, the two boys hoisted themselves in the back of the truck.

Santana rubbed at her eyes and glanced around, wondering what she should do. It was still dark and she couldn't help but compare this night to her night out in the meadow with Brittany. In both cases, they were isolated, surrounded by fields and covered by a blanket of stars, with the only noise coming from crickets and the occasional call of a bird. Both nights had been an escape of sorts. One, from the pressures of a stifling hometown, the other, from the threat of a sure death.

Opening the back of the car, Santana pulled out one of the stuffed duffle bags and brought it with her to the porch. The pile of zombies was still there. Santana didn't know why she would have expected otherwise. She set the duffle down and went back to the car to retrieve a headlamp, trying not to gag when she got a little too close to one of the rotten corpses. Bringing everything back to the porch, Santana sat down on the rocking chair, which was positioned with a direct view of the car.

Putting on the headlamp, Santana opened the duffle and grabbed the copy of _Practical Shooting_ that she had thrown in amongst the guns and ammo when they had been at the shop. Yesterday had just been a taste of what was to come, Santana was sure of it. That thought scared the shit out of her; more than she had realized, if last night was any indication. However, at some point within her darkened dreams, it seemed she had also acquired more resolve.

Santana read for hours. _If Yoda had operated a pistol instead of a lightsaber, he might sit down and right a book like this,_ she thought. It creeped Santana out a little, the almost philosophical nature this dude took when referring to how to handle a gun, and the mental state of the gunman when shooting. However, she couldn't help but absorb it all: single-hand shooting, multiple targets, reloading, shooting on the move, shootoff tactics. She learned which bullets shoot more flat and when it's necessary to hold the gun higher to account for a slight arc, or drop.

At a certain point, Santana's stomach growled and she went over to the grill where there was still a plate of leftover food. Back at the rocking chair, she took bites with her right hand while handling her pistol in her left: taking it apart, putting it back together, loading, and re-loading the clips. Then, after she felt comfortable enough, she pulled out one of the riffles from the bag and repeated the process.

The sun was rising as Santana fiddled with the scope on the riffle. Getting up, off of the rocking chair she crouched low, right knee on the ground and left knee up, her left elbow resting on top of her knee, giving her the support to hold her gun. She adjusted the scope to zero in on her target: for this purpose, a cow, grazing in the field. Her right hand held the handguard, keeping the gun steady, while her left hand fingered the trigger. She could see the cow take a large bite, its mouth moving back and forth, tail whipping at flies.

"That's hot," a voice says from less than two feet away.

It was extremely fortunate that Santana _wasn't_ trigger-happy, or else she's positive that the cow standing over 100 yards away would be dead right now, as her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. As it was, she dropped the gun when she spun her head, simultaneously causing an extreme kink to blossom her neck.

"Oh my god!" Santana exclaimed, cursing in Spanish from a mixture of pain and surprise. Brittany was standing right at the foot of the stairs, looking perplexed. It was then that Santana learned another valuable lesson: that looking through the scope gives the gunman very little indication of their immediate surroundings.

"Sorry, B, you just surprised me," Santana said after she had calmed down, holding her neck gingerly with one hand.

"You weren't actually going to kill that cow, were you?" Brittany asked, worried.

"No, no, don't worry," Santana moved, to show her the loaded magazine, sitting next to her on the ground, separate from the riffle body.

"Ok, good," Brittany says, "Cause cows are totally like my 19th favorite animal."

"I knew that," Santana says, smiling. She could honestly say that she knew Brittany's top 35 favorites. A fact that Brittany frequently liked to quiz her on.

Santana thought back to a time when her parents had been gone for the weekend, and she and Brittany had spent nearly the entire time in some state of undress. At one point, they had been sitting up in Santana's bed, naked, with their legs crossed over one another so that their centers were almost touching. Sheets were pooled around their waist and Brittany had held a bowl filled with strawberries in one hand.

"_Number One?" _

"_Duck, duh." _

_Brittany grinned appreciatively and held a strawberry out to Santana, who took between her lips, making sure to envelop Brittany's fingers as she did. Brittany giggled. _

"_Number Two?" _

"_Koala." _

_Brittany nodded enthusiastically feeding her another strawberry and then following it with her lips. _

Santana was surprised that they had even made it to 35, considering that with each correct answer they seemed to draw closer to one another. Coming back to reality Santana looked back at Brittany and could see her thoughts had drifted as well.

"Sam and Kurt are spooning in their sleeping bags," Brittany said.

Santana snorted.

"Do you realize we each dated them?" Santana said, feeling the need to bring back the hilarity that had been Kurt and Brittany as a couple.

"I've totally made out with every one of you," Brittany pointed out.

Santana frowned.

"Aw baby," Brittany said, a smile on her face, "I love your sweet lady kisses the most though!"

Leaning down, Brittany gave Santana a chaste kiss, to which Santana gave a half-hearted grumble.

Brittany laughed before going into the house.

"Where are you going?" Santana called after her.

"To use the bathroom," she heard.

If she was going to be honest, Santana had been holding it all night, a combination of not wanting to leave her post and not wanting to enter the house alone, at night.

While Brittany was gone, Santana studied the map that Kurt had left out. He had marked their progress and it appeared they had made their way into Indianna last night. Kurt's small "x" showed them just outside a small town called Liberty. It seemed they would need to drive through the town in order to continue on their very-roundabout, route, which Kurt had begun plotting out. Santana scoured the map, somewhat worried, because their path took them directly between Indianapolis and Cincinnati. On the other hand, any less direct of a route and they would never make any progress. Sighing, Santana folded the map back up.

Brittany came out of the house, two bowls in one hand and a steaming cup in the other. She handed a bowl and the mug to Santana. Cheerios with bananas, and coffee.

"You're a lifesaver," Santana said appreciatively.

Brittany shrugged, but didn't deny it.

Not long after, Kurt and Sam made their way to the porch. After they had all eaten, Kurt mentioned that the shower worked.

"What?" he said, at Santana's questioning glance "You think I was going to sleep with all that junk in my hair. Though I do have to say, it's hard not having my normal products." He gave a sad sigh.

For the 'sake of saving time' Santana and Brittany showered together. Santana was able to push past the uncomfortable feeling she had while she was in the house, just long enough to get Brittany gasping against the tile of the shower wall, two fingers pumping inside of her, and her thumb slowly brushing her clit.

Kurt managed not to comment on the smug look of satisfaction that Santana had on her face when they both exited the house. Or, on the fact that they probably took twice as long as it would have taken had they both showered separately.

Desperate times.

They were quick to load everything back in the car and grab some fresh food to bring with them. Santana wondered if this was what it would be like every night. Breaking into homes, looking at family portraits of people that had been killed, infected, or just…disappeared. Looking at the pile of bodies in front of the house, Santana wasn't sure which was worse.

Turning towards the car, she saw Sam messing around with something towards the front.

"Yo!" she hollered at him, "What are you doing to my wheels?"

Stepping back and smiling at something Santana couldn't see, Sam gestured to her.

"Come take a look."

Walking to the front of her car, Santana saw that Sam had affixed, what appeared to be giant bull horns, to the grill.

"What do you think?" Sam asked excitedly.

Santana's lips were pursed, forehead knitted in confusion.

"What exactly were you trying to accomplish?" she asks slowly.

"Umm, I dunno. I just figured, that…well, we're sort of this badass fighting team" Santana raised an eyebrow, but he continued "and, when I saw this leaning against the side of the house, I thought it would look cool."

Santana didn't say anything.

"Plus," Sam went on, "if you ever needed to run over zombies or something…this would totally help."

"Yeah," Santana drawled, "because hitting them with an Escalade wouldn't cause any harm."

Sam shuffled his feet. Deciding to give him a break Santana said "Fine, fine, we can keep it. But don't you even think of giving this car a name like the Batmobile or anything."

Grinning, Sam nodded before clambering into the backseat. When she was sure he was out of sight, Santana grinned appreciatively.

Kurt sat up front with Santana, so as to give better directions, much to Brittany's disappointment and before long they were driving back down the one-way street, away from the small home, the cows, and it's inhabitants' rotting bodies.

* * *

><p>"We have to get off of 27 and onto 44," Kurt said, "But we're going to have to go through this town…mmm Liberty, yes, right here." He was pointing at the map.<p>

"It should be coming up."

Santana nodded. In the rearview mirror she saw both Sam and Brittany clutching guns, the bags of ammo sitting between them.

They passed what looked like a Country Club, and Santana began to make out the cluster of houses in the distance.

The highway brought them directly into the town, turning into N. Main Street. Santana slowed down. Much like Lima and some of the other towns they had passed the day before, there were cars abandoned everywhere. They passed a stoplight, which was flashing red, and a fire hydrant that had water escaping it in a slow, steady stream.

Then, there was the sound of gunfire and the unmistakable scream of a girl.

Santana froze.

They were supposed to continue forward, but the sound was coming from their left, down a small, residential street.

"Santana…" Kurt warned, but she had already jerked the wheel to the left and was steering the car towards the noise.

They didn't have to drive long. The street had a dead end. At the very end of the street was a pack of at least forty zombies, making their way towards a middle aged man and a girl who looked no older than ten. The man, presumably the girl's father, had a small handgun and was firing at the mass, and the girl clutched a small baseball bat in her hands, taking shelter behind him. Santana could tell it would only be moments before the two would be overwhelmed.

"Santana!" Kurt yelled, "We can't, there are too many!"

However, Santana had already screeched to a halt and was out of the car a second later, pulling the guns out of her holsters without any hesitation. Running forward slightly, she took aim at the mass and began to fire. Bodies dropped as she made shots to the head. Then, she felt a presence at her side and saw that Brittany and Sam had joined her. A knife spun through the air on her left, indicating Kurt had stepped out as well.

Their appearance seemed to work in offering some relief to the man and child. Unfortunately for the four teenagers, that meant the majority of the zombies were now heading towards them. However, not all the zombies had been deterred. Santana heard the girl scream again as rotten bodies staggered closer to her. She was feebly swinging her bat back and forth.

Santana frantically tried to gun down the zombies separating them, but the mass seemed impenetrable. Her hands shook and the shots she had just fired hit a zombie in the chest, halting it momentarily, but failing to permanently kill it. A quick shot from Brittany, however, did the job for her.

"Thanks," Santana gasped out.

"Don't mention it," Brittany said, before turning to the right and firing more.

Just then a wretched scream pierced the air, and this time, it was from the man. Looking up, Santana could barely make out the two figures anymore. However, as the zombies moved, a gap formed and Santana could just make out the young girl, lying on the ground, a deep, biting wound in her neck.

"Santana, we need to go!" Kurt yelled.

"But-"Santana began. They couldn't just leave this man to die. They had come here to save them. The girl had had her fate decided for her, but there was still hope for the man. They couldn't leave. They just…couldn't. Santana furiously swept her eyes up to look for him, to see how close they were while simultaneously pushing her finger against the trigger of her pistol. Finally, amid the crowd of bodies, she found his face. It was locked onto hers. His expression was one of hopelessness. That's when Santana noticed the position of his gun: placed firmly against the underside of his chin.

"No!" Santana screamed, the sound ripping from her throat. But it was too late. He had pulled the trigger, falling to the ground next to the young girl. The young girl who was shakily coming to her feet, eyes an unmistakable shade of red, puss oozing from her open wound. Santana's eyes were glued to where the man had been just moments before.

"Santana!" Kurt yelled again.

For a moment Santana was brought back to reality, for just long enough to realize that there were still upwards of twenty zombies, forming a semi-circle around them, and closing in.

"We need to go!" Sam shouted.

Santana's legs felt like lead and it was as though everything was moving in slow motion.

The four of them turned and ran, painfully aware of the dark mass of bodies right on their tails. Brittany had her gun pointed behind her and was shooting continuously until there was unmistakable *click* indicating she had run out of bullets. Kurt was the first to the car and he jumped into the drivers seat. Sam ran to the other side and got in. Brittany made it to the backseat and threw the door open, jumping in. Santana was jogging backwards, furiously gunning down as many zombies as possible. One got too close and grabbed onto her arm. She stumbled.

"San!" Brittany screamed out of the open backdoor.

Kurt had turned on the ignition and the car was slowly moving in her direction. Santana wretched her arm away, her shoulder flaring up in pain, before sprinting towards the backdoor, throwing herself into Brittany's open arms before immediately turning around and slamming the door shut. Kurt sped up, heading directly at the hoard of zombies. With less than ten feet left Kurt jerked the wheel to the left, pulling hard on the emergency brake and simultaneously putting his foot down on the foot brake. The car made a sharp 180-degree turn, plowing down a row of zombies as it did. One smashed against the side window, closest to Santana, causing a deep crack to form. Then, pushing the handbrake back down Kurt accelerated back down the road, towards N. Main Street, leaving the remaining zombies in their wake.

All four of them were silent, but on edge, looking in every direction. Once back on the main road they had only to travel a few minutes before the sign for highway 44 appeared, at which, Kurt turned right. Ten minutes later and they were passing the last house in Liberty, continuing on to the countryside.

* * *

><p>It had been at least fifteen more minutes and not a word was spoken.<p>

Santana sat motionless in the backseat. The small girl, overtaken by zombies. The man's hollow eyes, boring into her mind, followed by the image of him taking his own life.

"We can't do that again," Kurt said from the front seat, "That was-"

"Kurt, shut up," Brittany snapped. She was looking at Santana, eyes full with worry.

Kurt closed his mouth into a thin line.

* * *

><p>They continued driving for a couple hours. They were making their way into the territory between Indianapolis and Cincinnati and the landscape was becoming noticeably more populated.<p>

They passed through Alpine, then Greensburg, then Columbus. Things were not as quiet anymore. In some cases they could see movement in the distance, in others there would be the sound of glass breaking or a car alarm going off; reverberating off the walls of the emptied homes and storefronts, echoing down long, deserted streets.

Driving through Columbus, Santana could have sworn she heard a scream for help in the distance. If Kurt had heard, he made no indication of it; continuing down the road. They drove past running figures on the roadside, in most cases unsure if they were infected or not. Santana's eyes watered with tears of frustration as she clenched her jaw, in an attempt to keep from screaming.

The entire while, the eyes of the man from Liberty bore into her mind.

* * *

><p>The drive out of Columbus led them into Brown State Park: a vast expanse of thickly wooded mountains. After about forty-five minutes, Sam suggested they stop and eat something. Kurt pulled up at a deserted rest stop. They got out and took turns using the restroom. Santana wasn't sure how the plumbing was still working, and wondered if it was just a matter of time before these things shut down. Walking out of the bathroom, and wiping her hands on the front of her pants (there had been no towels), Santana made her way over to the rickety picnic bench where the other three were sitting, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, chips, and apples.<p>

"You're a really good person Santana," Kurt said after a while, looking up and trying to catch her eye.

"Duh, I'm the best," she scoffed, though her voice was lackluster and when she rolled her eyes, she made sure not to meet his gaze.

"No," Kurt said, quietly, "You got a ton of crap at school for being a bitch. You're not. Not at all. I'm sorry if I ever attacked you because of it."

"Please, your words are about as vicious as a sneezing, baby koala," Santana said, still not looking at him, instead, choosing to pick at her nails.

"Damn, I forgot my nail file B," Santana remarked, looking up at Brittany.

Brittany was frowning, and jerked her head back to Kurt.

"What do you want me to say?" Santana asked, the beginning of anger bubbling at the bottom of her chest, "Thanks for realizing I'm not a bitch?"

"No," Kurt said, "But I do think we should talk about Liberty."

"What's there to talk about?" Santana said.

"First, how your natural inclination is to help people and what that could potentially mean considering the nature of our situation right now. Second, I think we should talk about what we saw, with that girl and her dad."

Sam was nodding in agreement.

"I hate talking," Santana stated calmly.

"Could have fooled me," Kurt retorted.

Santana's jaw was set, and she didn't say anything. Brittany set her hand on Santana's thigh, rubbing it up and down soothingly.

"What do you think Britt?" Kurt finally asked.

"I think…" Brittany said slowly, "I could never be the one to make the choice not to help someone. I think Santana feels the same. It makes her heart hurt. Right San?"

After a moment Santana gave a small jerk of her head.

It was the closest they were going to get.

"And the man..?"

Kurt didn't need to say anything else for Santana to know what he was asking.

"Don't worry," she said scathingly, "I'm not permanently damaged."

In the back of her mind, Santana wondered if that was even slightly true.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later and they were back in the car. Santana took her spot in the backseat with Brittany once more. It had been a tense moment when Santana handed the keys over to Kurt once more. It was hard letting go of the modicum of control she had had over the situation, considering all they had left was this fucking car and what seemed to be an endless amount of highway. Now, without the steering wheel to hold onto, sitting in the back of the car, Santana's fingers tightened around the handle of her guns. She couldn't help but feel 'demoted' even if it were for something as simple as 'possessing a heart.'<p>

* * *

><p>They continued driving for hours without incident. It hadn't been clear whether the National Park had felt more or less secure. On the one hand, it was virtually uninhabited and therefore seemed an unlikely place for zombies to occupy, on the other hand, the thick, dark forest allowed even Santana's mind to race with images of dead figures crawling out of its depths.<p>

Once they had exited the park's perimeter, the landscape still retained some of its thick foliage; yet, there were intermittent fields that managed to alleviate the stifling feeling that had been creeping in their chest.

Sam had switched off driving with Kurt, telling him to sleep and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Santana mimed throwing up in the backseat.

Brittany shook her head as if to reprimand Santana, but she didn't manage to keep the smile off her face.

Santana was still wondering when her car privileges would come back.

* * *

><p>After several more hours, the trees had disappeared completely and they were back to staring at more fields. Santana and Brittany had both fallen asleep in the backseat. They awoke, limbs tangled, heads resting on the ammo bag with their bodies cradling the various guns that had been out, making Santana feel all out of sorts.<p>

As they passed a meandering stream, Brittany shouted excitedly for Sam to stop, which he did immediately, wheels screeching on asphalt.

Once the car was still, they all looked at Brittany expectantly.

"Let's go swimming!" she said, a broad grin on her face.

"Are you serious?" Kurt asked.

"What?" Brittany asked, smile faltering; "I doubt taking a break for an hour is going to kill us."

Faces remaining blank, Brittany added "Ok, maybe that wasn't the best choice of words."

Kurt looking imploringly at Santana, as though perhaps she would be able to talk some sense into her girlfriend.

Partially as a way just to spite him, Santana said, "That sounds awesome Britt-Britt!"

If Kurt had thought he would be getting support from Sam, the "Hell Yeah!" from the boy proved otherwise.

So, five minutes later, Brittany and Santana were standing mid-thigh in the slow-moving stream in nothing but their bra and underwear, with Sam, clad only in boxers, attempting to splash them from a few feet away.

It was bliss, being able to forget, even if it was for just a few minutes.

Kurt was standing haughtily on the shore, reasoning that they should have at least one person on the lookout. When Kurt turned his back to them, Sam sent a tidal wave in his direction, effectively soaking him.

"Maybe they are good for each other," Santana managed to gasp out, cracking up as Kurt screamed at Sam, his voice going up an octave as he did.

"His voice is so high," Brittany said to Santana, "I wonder if he can speak to dolphins."

Ten minutes later and they decided it was time to leave, Kurt huffing all the while.

"Come on," Santana said, "It's not like you're not used to changing your outfit like ten times a day anyways."

The glare Kurt sent her way almost had Santana shutting her mouth. Almost.

* * *

><p>Their moods noticeably lighter, they continued driving. Sam even began humming; some country song that Santana didn't recognize. Brittany's eyes crinkled as she caught Santana's fingers tapping a small beat on the door handle.<p>

"Wha-" Santana began to ask, but Brittany had already leaned forward to capture her lips in a kiss.

They were cut short when, five minutes later, Sam politely asked if they could stop, afraid that he might get distracted and crash the car. Kurt punched him in the arm.

* * *

><p>It was getting late into the afternoon when they passed through a small town called Grayville, in the southeastern border of Illinois.<p>

Sam slowed down, maneuvering slowly around a couple crashed vehicles.

"Shit!" Sam yelled as, just then, a man ran out from behind a car, roughly ten feet in front of them, waving his arms wildly, trying to get them to stop.

The car screeched to a stop as Sam pressed down on the brake.

"Sam," Kurt warned, but the man had already made it to the driver's window and was rapping, urgently on the glass.

He was bearded, hair a dark brown color, and skin leathery, a camo hat resting on his head, and wearing a ripped denim vest. But, as far as Santana could tell, he was very much human.

It seemed Sam had figured the same as he began lowering the window.

Just then Santana saw a movement. The man reaching behind him, as if to grab something.

"Sam!" Santana yelled, but it was too late. The man had wrenched open the front door, his right arm coming back out, with a gun in hand pointed firmly at Sam's head.

"GET OUT OF THE CAR!" he yelled.

"You shoot and you are dead," Brittany said, her voice low, and her own pistol gripped firmly in her hand.

"Why ain't that sweet," the man drawled, "The girl wants to play guns. Well that's ok, you can try and outgun me, but we'll see whose shot makes its mark. You really wanna risk your blonde brother right here?" The man jerked his head at Sam, who still had his hands pressed firmly against the wheel, hands shaking.

"Why are you doing this?" Kurt asked, eyes wide and desperate.

"Well, you see, I don't know if you young daisies know…but there's a bit of a zombie apocalypse right now," the man said, voice low, calm and sarcastic, "and I need a vehicle, so as to get myself out of this town and the army of zombies that will be coming any time now. I'm sure you understand."

"What about all these cars," Kurt said, gesturing to the few cars surrounding them.

"DO I LOOK STUPID TO YOU?" the man screamed, now pointing the gun at Kurt.

"Hey!" Sam yelled.

"DON'T YOU DARE MOVE!" the man was now directing voice to Santana, who had slowly moved to unclasp her holster.

"As..I was saying," the man's voice was dangerously low once again "If you couldn't tell. These cars have been in an accident. Engines are shot. Like I said. I ain't stupid. Now. Get out of the car or I start shooting."

Santana's mind was racing.

Click.

She made a sudden move for her guns.

"Looks like the bitch volunteered" the man said, bringing his gun to point directly at Santana's face.

In a second all hell broke loose.

There was the sound of a gunshot, then another, a grunt of pain, the screech of tires and then it was over.

* * *

><p><strong>thanks for reading,<strong>

**let me know what you think! **


	7. Chapter 6

"_Looks like the bitch volunteered" the man said, bringing his gun to point directly at Santana's face._

_In a second all hell broke loose. _

_There was the sound of a gunshot, then another, a grunt of pain, the screech of tires and then it was over._

* * *

><p>Brittany had picked up on Santana's cue.<p>

In the moment the man turned to point his gun at Santana, Brittany had pressed down on the trigger of her gun. Santana's eyes squeezed shut, on instinct.

The sound of gunshots reverberating around the car was deafening and almost immediately afterwards the car came screeching to life, not quite masking a loud cry of pain. All Santana knew was that two gunshots later and she was still breathing. Immediately her eyes locked on Brittany, and she breathed a sigh of relief when the other girl appeared unharmed.

Just then the back window shattered and Santana threw her hands to cover the back of her head as glass fell everywhere around them.

"Mother Fucker!" Santana screamed, swiveling her head around just in time to see the man, blood gushing from his chest, fall to the ground, gun in hand.

It seemed his last stand was over.

"Sam!"

Kurt's sharp cry brought Santana's attention to the front of the car where Sam was driving with one hand, the other pressed firmly over his shoulder.

There was blood.

"I'm fine," Sam said, panting heavily and momentarily squeezing his eyes closed. A tear fell from his eye.

"And that wasn't a tear!" he yelled, before letting out a low groan.

"We need to pull over now," Kurt ordered.

Brittany, who was sitting right behind Sam, was staring wide-eyed at the back of the headrest, unable to see much of the boy's body.

"We need to get away from that maniac," Sam said, his determination slightly overshadowed by the wavering in his voice.

"I really don't think he's going to be a problem anymore," Santana spoke up, eyes still fixed to Sam's shoulder, where blood was beginning to appear beneath his fingertips.

When Sam said nothing Santana snapped "Pull the damn car over before you crash it guppy face!"

Slowly, the car came to a stop, rolling to the side of the road.

They had made it just outside the small town of Grayville and were once again surrounded by farmland. It seemed the stream that they had been enjoying not more than a couple hours ago had followed their path, and was meandering down, slightly to the left of the main road.

Once the tires stopped moving, three sets of doors were flung open as Kurt, Brittany and Santana ran to the front door and yanked it open.

"Chill out guys, I'm fine," Sam said feebly.

"Oh…" was all Brittany said as she caught sight of the blood seeping from beneath Sam's fingers.

"Sam," Kurt whispered, staring into the boy's eyes, "What happened?"

"I dunno, thought I could get the gun from him or something, but managed to get in front of the bullet instead." Sam's eyelids fluttered closed.

"We need to move him," Santana said, looking at Kurt "Let's lay him in the back."

Kurt nodded.

"Can you get out?" Santana asked Sam.

"Yeah, I think so," Sam mumbled, pulling himself from the driver's seat but stumbling as his feet hit the ground. Brittany stepped forward to support him.

Kurt ran to the back of the car and opened the trunk and Santana dove into the backseat to grab the first aid kit, coming back in time to see Brittany hoisting Sam slowly into the back. Sam groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as Kurt situated him on the blankets lining the back of the car, and tenderly placed Sam's head on a pillow in his lap. Sam's shirt was stained red on the upper left side of his chest. For some reason this image disturbed Santana much more than any of the rotten corpses they had encountered up to this point.

Taking out a pair of scissors, Santana steadied her hand and began to slowly cut Sam's shirt down the middle, peeling it back once she had made her way up to the collar. The shirt clung slightly around the wound and Sam hissed as Santana tugged, trying to be as gentle as possible. Once the fabric was free, Santana looked down to assess the damage. She had never seen a real bullet wound before, aside from on TV. Now, all she could see was red and exposed flesh. Grabbing a water bottle, Santana slowly poured a trickle of water on Sam's chest, exposing the wound. Sam hissed again and clenched his eyes shut, turning his head in Kurt's lap. Gently, Santana traced her hand along Sam's back and felt nothing but smooth skin.

"No exit wound, so the bullet is still in there," Santana said slowly, her mind racing.

Sam groaned.

"Funny thing is, he was already stumbling when he fired, so it probably wouldn't have hit anyone anyway. Guess I'm just stupid." Sam coughed feebly.

"He's talking," Santana murmured, "that means his airway is probably clear…" she opened the first aid kit and grabbed a thick towel.

"Kurt," Santana said sharply, "Apply pressure on the bleeding, to keep circulation going."

Kurt nodded and grabbed the towel, pressing it to Sam's chest.

"Can you move your hands?" Santana asked.

Sam nodded, flexing his fingers, albeit very weakly.

"Good," Santana muttered to herself before she pressed two fingers to the inside of each wrist.

"Santana," Kurt said, voice pained "what can we do?"

"We're going to Fort Leonard Wood," Santana said firmly, "I can't get the bullet out, but I'm assuming they will have some sort of medical facilities at the base. Sam looks ok for now, but he's bleeding out and could go into shock at any point. Also, It's really hard to assess what's going on internally. Lots of times there's cavitation, that results from the shock wave of the bullet entering the body, or fragmentation, from the bullet itself. "

Kurt's already pale face turned white.

Brittany watched on in silence.

Sam had his eyes closed, but Santana was comforted to see his breathing was more or less regular.

"Hey," Santana said, attempting to adopt a comforting tone, "Good news is, it doesn't seem like any bones are broken, and if the bullet hit any main arteries or veins I'm sure there would be a lot more bleeding."

"How do you know any of this?" Kurt asked, staring at her nonplussed. He was still firmly pressing down on the wound with one hand, and brushing Sam's hair back with another.

Santana shrugged. "My dad's a doctor…and we're from Lima Heights. Knowing how to preliminarily assess a bullet wound was like…the first thing my brother and I learned when we graduated 5th grade."

"I learned how to tie my Velcro…" Brittany said, her voice laced with pride.

"Anyway, we need to get out of here ASAP," Santana said hurriedly.

Kurt nodded.

"You guys shouldn't move around too much back here, and he'll probably do better lying down," Santana said.

Again, Kurt nodded.

Brittany brought her lips to Sam's forehead.

"Get better Sammy."

Kurt looked away for a second, and Santana could see him blinking rapidly.

Santana leaned down and brought her lips close to Kurt's ear, speaking quickly and quietly.

"I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but there's something known as the "Golden Hour." It refers to the time when there is the highest chance of survival. After that it just gets worse. Now, Sam looks ok, but you really need to monitor him. If he looks cold, put blanket on him. If he's burning up, try and keep him cool. We want to put as little stress on his body as possible, to give us the most time…"

Santana looked at the back window, which was now shattered.

"If you need anything, just shout."

With that Santana gave Kurt's shoulder a squeeze, bent down and pecked Sam on the check before hopping out of the back and closing it.

Brittany was waiting when she turned around.

"I love you," Brittany said.

"I love you too," Santana said without hesitating.

Brittany gave her a small smile before leaning in a planting a small kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"Let's go."

As Santana made her way to the driver's door she took a look at the stream once more. Just as she did, she saw the unmistakable form of a person floating lifeless down the waterway.

* * *

><p>As much as Santana had been annoyed when Kurt had insisted that he and Sam take over behind the wheel, she would easily give up lifelong driving privileges if it meant Sam would be ok.<p>

_That's not saying much nowadays. _Santana thought snidely to herself. _Words like 'lifelong' start to lose their meaning when you're stuck in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. _

With that thought, Santana snorted. It hadn't even been a zombie that had injured Sam. To think that in this infested country, their biggest conflict would arise in fellow human beings.

"I've lost all faith in humanity," Santana said dully, glancing at Brittany quickly before returning her eyes to the road.

"Why?" Brittany asked, confused.

"Did you see what just happened back there B?" Santana said, a little more forcefully than she had intended, "I mean, that was just so…fucked up!"

Brittany gently stroked Santana's knuckles, where they were clenched over the center console.

"How is it that after everything that has happened to you…how can you still be so strong?" Santana asked, shakily.

Brittany didn't answer for a while, but her hand stopped its movement, and gripped Santana's hand.

"Because I have you," Brittany responded simply.

Santana felt her throat constrict painfully.

She continued driving.

* * *

><p>An hour had passed.<p>

"Hey B, can you check on them?" Santana asked.

Brittany nodded, squeezed Santana's hand, and carefully climbed into the backseat. Santana glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Brittany sticking her head through the broken window to talk to Kurt.

"Britt! Be careful!" Santana yelled, "The glass…" she trailed off feebly, knowing Brittany probably couldn't hear her with the outside noise.

"I swear to god," Santana muttered to herself, "We'll probably kill ourselves off before the zombies get a chance."

She pressed her foot further down on the gas, willing them to get to help faster.

Santana thought back to her fifth-grade self, and one of the first of many sit-down talks she had with her dad.

"_Chest wounds are their own animal, Santana." _

_Santana's dad was looking down at her, where she was sitting in her chair, looking longingly outside at the bright blue sky and the kids playing on the street. She wondered if Brittany was playing right now. _

"_Are you listening Santana?" _

"_Yes Papi," Santana said quickly, "Chest wounds are animals." _

_The older man sighed, bringing his hand to rub his chin, scratching slightly. _

"_What I mean," he began, frowning slightly, "Is that they can be a lot more complex. There can be complications, different from the other injuries that I have already told you about." _

_Santana stared up at her dad quietly. _

_Sighing, the older man got up from his seat, "Just try and get to the doctor as quickly as possible, eh mija? That's the best thing you could do." _

"_So go to you Papi?" Santana asked, tilting her head to the side. _

"_Yes, come to me," the man said, giving her one of his rare smiles. _

"_Now come on, why don't you go outside and see what your friends are up to." _

_Squealing, Santana took off. _

Tapping her fingers impatiently against the wheel, Santana looked up again.

Brittany was carefully extracting her head from the window.

"How is he?" Santana asked, the second Brittany was fully inside the car again.

"Kurt says it's hard to say," Brittany said slowly, climbing back up to the front seat, "Sam has basically been passed out this whole time, and the towel is really bloody, San. But Kurt also said he's still breathing normal."

Santana nodded, glancing at the clock.

It was getting late. Soon the sun would be setting once again. In the distance Santana could see wooded mountains rising up in front of them.

"We'll be good once we get over those guys," Santana said nodding to the hills, "Should be just on the other side."

"Mark Twain National Forest," Brittany said, reading from the map that was lying in her lap. "I wonder what Huck Finn would do if there was a zombie apocalypse," Brittany mused.

"Probably fake his own death," Santana said.

"Mmmhh," Brittany agreed, "Maybe."

* * *

><p>Forty-five minutes later and they were making it into the green foothills, leading to the national park.<p>

It had been a quiet drive since leaving Grayville, with Brittany making periodic check ups on Kurt and Sam, handing back water, snacks, and eventually a fresh towel through the busted window. Though Kurt informed them that the bleeding had slowed down, he also said that Sam was now shivering and sweating and there was a large amount of discoloration around the wound. Unable to see the wound herself, Santana wasn't sure if it was the normal amount of bruising that would result from any close-range gunshot, or, if perhaps, it was something more serious. In any case, there was nothing she would be able to do to help the boy. That thought alone made her want to scream.

_Just try and get to the doctor._ Santana repeated in her mind.

Looking down at the dashboard, Santana saw they were going 90 miles an hour. That was also when she noticed the status of the gas tank. It had less than a third left.

"Shit," Santana said quietly.

"What's up San?" Brittany asked.

"We're going to have to try and find another car, get some gas soon," Santana explained.

She groaned. "Ugh, we must have passed 10 cars in the last three hours. There's literally nothing out here, and there damn as well wont be anything once we get into those woods."

"Hey," Brittany said soothingly, rubbing her hands up and down Santana's back, "We'll find something."

Santana clenched her jaw, but nodded, refusing to think about what would happen if they didn't.

"_The moon's come and gone but a few stars hang on to the sky," _Santana began singing softly.

She could feel Brittany's eyes on her, but Santana kept her eyes on the road.

"_The wind's runnin' free but it ain't up to me to ask why_,_ The poets are demanding their pay, They've left me with nothin' to say…"_

Brittany squeezed her hand.

"_..'cept hold me and tell me you'll be here to love me today…"_

Santana looked over at Brittany.

"_Just hold me and tell me you'll be here to love me today."_

"Where do you want to live when you grow up?" Brittany asked after a moments silence.

"Britt…" Santana began, "I don't think you can really ask those questions anymore."

"But I just did," Brittany pointed out.

"Yeah," Santana sighed, "I meant... life is different. I think I'm going to live where I'll be able to…well, you know, live."

"I think this is all going to be fixed one day," Brittany said, with a certainty that Santana was envious of, "and then, I want to live with you."

Despite herself, Santana couldn't help smiling.

"Where do you want to live?"

"I don't really care," Brittany shrugged.

"Then why did you ask me the question?" Santana asked, confused.

"Well obviously," Brittany said, as though explaining something extremely simple, "If I don't care where we're going to live once this is all over, then you have to decide. I just wanted to make sure it was someplace nice."

This was not the first time Santana wondered if it was truly possible to love someone as much as she loved Brittany.

"Can I think about it B?" she asked shyly, "This is a big decision."

"Totally," Brittany said, giving her a smile, and leaning over to give her a kiss.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later and Santana had turned her headlights on.<p>

Not only was the sun setting, but they were now also making their way through thickly wooded areas, with darkness pressing in from all sides. Brittany had thrown a thick jacket into the back for Kurt to wear, and Sam was covered in blankets. She was now peeling an orange and feeding Santana slices.

Santana was sure this would be a beautiful area during the day, but just like when they had been in the woods earlier, she couldn't help but feel vulnerable. She insisted that Brittany keep her gun on her, as well as provide one for Kurt.

Brittany had tried the radio earlier, thinking that there might be a broadcast from the base if they were close enough. However, just like the first morning of infection every station and getting nothing but static, Santana assured Brittany that it was likely that they were still too far out. Even with her driving, there was still over an hour left on their journey. As darkness fell upon them, Santana had to slow down considerably. The road had become quite windy once they had entered into the national park, with turns appearing what seemed like every thirty feet. Brittany was looking slightly queasy, and Santana had to once again appreciate how end of the world circumstances did nothing to cure such simple things as road sickness.

Santana kept driving.

Out of the left-hand corner of her eye, Santana thought she saw something move in the darkness. A figure perhaps. Shaking her head, Santana gripped the wheel a little tighter.

They kept driving.

Five minutes later and Santana was sure she saw something again, but this time off to the right-hand side of the road.

"Britt," Santana said cautiously, "did you just see anything?"

"I don't know…" Brittany said slowly, "I think so."

Santana didn't know what to do. All instincts were telling her to speed up and jet out of the forest, but the nature of the road made that almost impossible.

Then she saw one.

A zombie. Making its way out of the trees not twenty feet in front of them. Slowly, Santana brought her foot further down on the peddle. The car picked up speed, and they hit the walking corpse with enough momentum to send it flying. However, as they did, the car lurched, and even Santana was able to hear Sam's groan of agony from the back.

"Santana!" Kurt yelled, "What was that?"

But Santana wasn't able to answer; too distracted by the sight in front of her.

Zombies. Emerging from behind every tree, appearing out of the darkness. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Santana didn't try to count. Fifty feet ahead the zombies were meeting to form a solid wall. A mass of bodies, wriggling against the blackness of the sky. The high beams were just hitting the front line, but it was enough for Santana to tell that it wouldn't be enough to just pick up speed and drive through them. There were too many.

Santana slowed the car down, but even as shed did that, figures were closing in on their left and right. In her rearview mirror, Santana could see the same thing occurring behind them. She stopped the car.

They were stuck.

"I love you B," Santana said quickly, "now get your guns, get everything. Make sure Kurt has stuff."

Brittany nodded and quickly set to work.

Then the gunshots began, as Kurt started shooting with the gun Brittany had handed him earlier.

"Damn it, Damn it!" Santana shouted, "They need to be inside the car."

"It's too late San," Brittany said, "We wouldn't be able to move Sam in time."

Brittany was checking all the guns for ammo. Once they were all loaded, she pressed one into Santana hand.

"This is it."

"I would want to live in Paris," Santana said.

"What?" Brittany asked, confused.

"After this, after everything," Santana explained quickly, "I want to leave this fucking country, and take you to Paris."

Brittany gave her a soft smile.

"Well, lets try and get there baby." With that, the blonde turned around, lowered her window a crack and began shooting.

Santana turned to do the same.

* * *

><p>Three minutes later and Santana was panicking. Their non-stop shooting was keeping the zombies temporarily at bay, but Santana was counting bullets in her head, and knew she would have to stop and reload momentarily.<p>

The figures were drawing closer, and all Santana could think about was Sam and Kurt in the back. Kurt was standing up and turning this way and that. He wasn't nearly as good a shot as Brittany, and it was showing. The zombies were making their way closer to the back of the car. Both Santana and Brittany moved to the backseat, with Brittany using the butt of her gun to knock away the remaining shards of glass that had once been the back window. Once it was clear, Brittany stuck her gun through and began rapid fire. Santana had the window on her side lowered just enough that her gun could peek through. As they were doing this, a number of zombies had made it to the front of the car. Turning her attention swiftly from the back, Santana shot towards the front, hitting a corpse that had been close to the front door.

_Click. Click_.

Out of ammo.

Frantically Santana released the clip and began to shove bullets in.

Just then the passenger seat window shattered as a zombie tried to make its way inside the car.

Turning in her place, Brittany shot it in the head.

Without the help of the two girls, Kurt was quickly overwhelmed. With zombies approaching on all sides, and without the protection of car doors and windows, he and Sam were the most exposed; the most vulnerable.

Sam was still passed out and shaking, Kurt standing over him, a look of horror masking his face, as what seemed like an endless amount of figures crawled out of the woods.

A zombie began lifting itself up the back of the car. Kurt managed to hit it, and while the bullet acted as a deterrent, he hadn't managed to hit the brain or spinal cord, and the figure was soon clambering back up.

Santana moved to cover the back window, with Brittany now shooting out the passenger window, where rotten hands were gripping the frame.

Suddenly the window nearest the drivers seat came crashing down. Brittany moved closer to the middle, extending her arms to the right and left, a handgun clutched in each, and began continuous firing.

_This is it._

Santana pulled the trigger and a zombie that had nearly made it over the side of the trunk toppled back, only to be absorbed by the hoard.

Kurt had switched to his knives, and soon twice as many zombies were staggering back. But even more than the bullets, knives were an exhaustible resource.

The window nearest Santana shattered and she had to bring her gun from the back and point it out the side in order to prevent the rotten bodies from getting in. Santana heard Kurt scream, but couldn't look over due to the presence less than two feet from her.

Then there was the sound of another gun firing.

Despite herself, Santana looked back for a second and was just able to make out Sam, propped on one elbow and clutching a gun in one hand, firing at the closest zombie. The blanket covers now pushed aside, Santana could see Sam's wound had reopened; blood dribbling down his chest.

That was enough.

Santana turned back to the window where a zombie had made it halfway in, during her lapse in attention.

"San!" Brittany warned, taking a second to glance over.

Santana shot the zombie in the head and bits of brain flew around the inside of the car. The zombie remained slumped in the window.

_Maybe that will act as a bit of a deterrent. _Santana couldn't help but hope.

Just as the thought crossed her mind however, scabbed hands began pulling the body away from the window.

Santana felt a hand grip hers. Brittany had put down her one of her guns in order to lace her fingers with Santana's.

_She knows._ Santana thought sadly, clutching Brittany's hand with all her might.

The car was rocking with the force of bodies pressed against its sides.

The final window smashed.

They were being suffocated on all sides.

Brittany and Santana were turning this way and that, but their movement had slowed.

_This is it_. Santana thought once more.

Stopping her firing momentarily, Santana took that time to look at Brittany; to really look at her. It was hard in such low lighting, but even with the small shimmer afforded by the headlights, Santana was sure she had never seen anyone so beautiful. Always in sync, Brittany turned her head towards Santana.

"I have you," Brittany said before leaning in and capturing her lips.

Santana could feel something grabbing at her arms and clenched her eyes tighter, focusing only on the feeling of Brittany's lips moving against hers.

Calm.

That's when the world around them exploded.

Santana gasped and pulled back.

Brittany's face was now illuminated as, with what seemed to be timed detonations, the forest around them blew up in flames. Santana could feel the heat from the roaring inferno, and could just hear the sounds of popping flesh, from the multitude of bodies hidden in the trees.

Grabbing her gun once more, Santana began firing with abandon at those figures lingering at the car.

Santana had to shield her eyes. Everything was so bright. So hot.

A new noise met their ears and Santana looked out the front window, just making out three vehicles approaching them. The closer they got, Santana could see they were army green Jeeps, with people leaning out the sides, guns in hand, firing at the zombies that had not been caught in the flames.

Finally the vehicles were less than twenty feet away.

"FOLLOW US!" a man yelled, leaning far out from the side of one of the cars, before shooting a zombie that had been clambering at the front door of the Escalade.

Santana looked back and saw that both Sam and Kurt were still there. Sam had stopped shooting and was lying back, almost completely still.

Moving quickly, Santana jumped into the front seat. The vinyl burned and she was sure she was sitting on glass, but at that point none of that mattered. The jeeps had all begun to turn around.

Grabbing the steering wheel, Santana slammed her foot down on the gas.

The car shot forward and with that they were on their way, leaving the burning forest in their wake.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you go. Hope you enjoyed. Let me know your thoughts. <strong>

**The next chapter is on its way, I will try and get it to you sooner than this last chapter.**

**Cheers. **


	8. Chapter 7

**a/n: So sorry for the incredibly long delay. My hard drive unfortunately crashed at the beginning of the summer and I lost a lot of what I written (back up every week guys!) Anyways, here is Chapter 7, as best I could re-write it. Also, I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but this is unbetad, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Thanks for reading! **Please let me know what you think, it's great hearing from you guys.****

* * *

><p>Santana felt as if her skin was was going to burn off as fifty-foot flames licked their way up the once-majestic forest; her thick leather jacket absorbing all the heat. Every breath scorched the inside of her throat, and the smoke made her eyes water. The stench of burning flesh was all around them as they tore through the forest in wake of the three jeeps ahead of them and Santana started to get dizzy as she attempted to hold her breath. Flaming figures screamed between the tree trunks, continuing their dead, jerking walk until all that remained was ash. It wasn't until a few minutes had passed that the fires had grown smaller, until the cars passed a point where they subsided completely. Santana could feel her body begin to cool. However, it seemed the heat had bee suppressing all other feelings in Santana's body, for almost immediately, she grew aware of prickling pain running down the backsides of her legs, and a throbbing ache in her arms from where dead hands had pulled, tugged, and clawed. Her chest felt bruised from where her gun had been resting; jutting back painfully with every release of a bullet. Santana quickly glanced over at Brittany, sweeping her eyes over the girl's body. Brittany looked battered and bruised, but she managed to shoot Santana a look that said <em>I'm fine<em>.

"Keep your eyes on the road missy," Brittany said, her voice coming out in a little more than a strained rasp. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness that had fallen upon them, and it appeared that only one of the headlights was working.

The trees started to thin out, just as a dinging on Santana's dashboard alerted her to the fact that the car was running on empty.

"Are you kidding me!" Santana yelled and she could feel the car slowing down, as the jeeps coninued on. In desperation, Santana slammed her hand down on the horn; happy to see the three cars stop roughly fifty feets ahead of them. Pulling to a stop herself, Santana sat, with both hands on the wheel as a few figures appeared to jump out of the vehicles and walk in their direction. Santana unlocked her door and began to make her way out, a hot sensation spreading down the back of her thighs, making her aware of the hundreds of pieces of glass that appeared to be imbeded in her pants, and from the feel of it, deep into her legs, from where the window had smashed onto the front seat. For some reason, seeing all the glass in her legs had the added effect of increasing the pain tenfold, and Santana winced.

"Baby?" Brittany said questionally, and then, upon looking down at all the glass, her eyes grew comically wide.

"I'm fine," Santana said gruffly, just as the closest man yelled over to them.

"United States Army! Identify yourself!"

"Oh hold up!" Santana shouted back, once she had successfully removed herself from the front seat, "We gots an injured man over here, no gas, and you want to play the name game?"

"Lopez?" an incredulous voice said, this time from one of the men standing close to the jeeps.

Santana squinted in his direction.

"Puckerman!"

There was an exuberant cry as the young man sprinted over from where he had been standing and before she knew it, Santana was being engulfed in a strong set of arms.

"Ew, get off me" Santana said, despite the giant smile breaking across her face.

Puck didn't seem to care as a stepped back, looking at her from arms length as if to confirm that it was really her. Santana could hardly believe it herself. Only upon seeing Puck had Santana realized that she had given up seeing anyone she loved again. Puck continued to just stare at her, mouth hanging slightly open. Then, realizing what Santana had shouted at the officer, he asked "Who've you got that's hurt?"

"Sam," Santana said, gesturing towards the back of the car.

Puck's eyes, already comically large, widened further, "Sam's here?" after a quick nod in confirmation from Santana, Puck yelled over his shoulder "We need a medic back here pronto!"

"We also ran out of gas," Santana said.

"And bring some gas!" Puck yelled again.

A woman carrying a medics bag and a container of gas ran over and after speaking quickly with Puck, jumped into the back with Kurt and Sam. Brittany had made her way over and gave a small squeak before jumping into Puck's arms. Chuckling, Puck wrapped his arms tightly around the Brittany, before gently lowered her to the ground, gripping her waist. Santana frowned and moved closer.

"Chill Lopez," Puck scoffed.

Brittany smiled and subtly linked their pinkies together. Puck watched them and something unrecognizable flashed in his eyes. "Shoulda known you guys would be together," he said quietly, his lips quirking upwards into a small smile, "not even a zombie apocolapse gonna get in your way."

"Ok, we best get this show on the road," said Santana, not quite sure what to make of this newly sentimental Puck, "Sam needs a real doctor and medical facilities. He's been getting worse, and the bullet is still in there. It would be a miracle if the wound isn't infected by now."

Puck nodded grimly and swiftly swung his arm in a circular motion above his head, "Let's head out!" Speaking only to Brittany and Santana, he said "Don't worry, we're only about 20 minutes away. We'll have the medic stay in back, and once we get your tank filled up there'll be someone covering you front and back, cause there can be a lot of action close to the base."

"Wanky," Santana said before she could help herself.

Puck's face cracked into a huge grin.

"Damn I'm glad to see you guys," and with that he grabbed her head, planting a kiss on her forehead before going to put the gas in the car.

"Who is this guy?" Santana asked perplexed, wondering when Puck's apparent personality transformation from trouble-making boy into responsible young man had happened.

"Puck," Brittany replied automatically, "Are you sure you're ok San? You've known Puck for like…a really long time."

"I know B, it was rhetorical," Santana said, smiling.

"Oh, right…I forget you do that," Brittany said, nodding.

"You're good to go ladies!" Puck said, returning with the empty container of gas in his hand.

With that, everyone got back in their respective cars before continuing on the road, Santana sitting gingerly in her seat so as not to aggrevate the backs of her thighs any more than they already were. A few zombie appearances were handled with deadly accuracy by the soldiers holding riffles in the jeeps. Leaving Santana and Brittany alone with their thoughts for most of the ride.

"I hope Sam will be ok," Brittany said quietly.

Santana looked over at her, "He will be. I mean…the fact that he's made it this far…he's strong, B."

Brittany didn't say anything; she just looked out the window.

"What do you think it's going to be like?" Brittany asked.

"What?"

"At the base," Brittany clarified.

"I don't know," Santana answered truthfully.

There was silence for another minute, then

"I miss my parents," Brittany sighed, and though she wasn't crying, a light sheen to her eyes showed that she was trying to keep tears at bay.

"I know baby," Santana said, hating that they were driving; preventing her from taking the other girl into her arms. She wanted to say more, but she didn't know where to begin.

"You know…" Santana began slowly, "They would be so proud of you right now, if they could see you."

A tear slid down Brittany's face, "I just wish I could have said bye."

Santana didn't say anything. She understood completely. Looking back, she couldn't even remember what the last thing she talked about with her parents was. Probably something about not doing the dishes, or taking the car. For some reason, not remembering what it was frustrated Santana to no end.

There was a gentle squeeze on her thigh and Santana looked into Brittany's blue eyes, it was then that Santana recognized the damp feeling on her face, and hastily swiped her hand across her eyes before returning them to the road. In the distance she could make out a looming high fences and a sprawl of buildings.

"Almost there B," Santana whispered.

They would be at the base in a matter of minutes, and Santana held her breath, wondering what they would find.

* * *

><p>As they neared the gates to Fort Leanord Wood, they were greeted by a handul of soldiers, all wearing army green uniforms. Santana could make out one of the soldiers talking to the jeep in front of them, gesturing at the Escalade. After a few more minutes he stood up, letting the Jeep continue and motioned for Santana to drive forward. Santana did, and moved her hand to roll down the windows before realizing that they had all been smashed out. Sighing, Santana looked up at the man now standing by the car. He looked to be only a year or two older than her, and had light sandy hair and a mass of freckles splashed across his nose and cheeks.<p>

"Evening miss," he said, nodding his head. When he spoke, Santana could see that his teeth were extremely crooked.

Santana grunted.

"Private Puckerman-" he began, and Santana raised an eyebrow "mentioned there was someone in need of medical attention. We also need all new folks to get 'n immediate medical 'valuation. So you'll all get sent over to the hospital 'n I'll have someone take yer car for ya."

"Why do you want my car?" Santana asked indignently, instinctively gripping the wheel tighter.

"This is a base miss, we don't want civilians driving around everywhere," he explained.

"Well…what are you going to do with it?" Santana hated the slight note of panic in her voice.

"No worries, it'll be fine. We've got a big garage where we're keeping all the ve-hicles," the man said giving her a smile, his teeth appearing to go in every direction.

Santana squirmed in discomfort before huffing and saying, "Fine."

The young soldier brought his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Immediatley a van pulled up.

"If I can ask you kindly to step out of the ve-hicle miss, these fine people will escort ya to the hospital," the man said, gesturing to the van, where two people came out, carrying a stretcher.

Giving up to the inevitable, Santana unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out of the car, grimacing again as she felt small shards of glass moving deeper beneath her skin. Sam was already being moved into the stretcher and carefully lowered down from the back of the car. Kurt looked ashen faced, but apparently he had come out of the fight in the woods more or less unharmed.

The four of them were taken into the van, and the door slid shut. Santana gave a somewhat despondent glance out of her window as she watched another uniformed soldier hop into her car and drive off. The woman driving the vehicle said nothing to them as they drove through the base. Santana tried to take in the various buildings and the people moving about the camp, many of whom were wearing army green uniforms. There were rows of what appeared to be barracks, behind which were hundreds of tents. The darkness prevented Santana from seeing the full extent of the camp, but from what she could see, it seemed massive.

Looking back inside the van, Santana took in Kurt, who was sitting next to the stretcher, clutching Sam's hand, and Brittany, who was sitting across from Santana, looking lost. The two men who had carried Sam on the strecher were sitting, stony-faced in the back of the car. Santana allowed herself to think of home, and how she would like nothing more than to curl up in her bed, feel the silky black sheets, and get lost in them. Brittany would be there too. Preferably, she would be naked. Santana could feel her eyelids droop with exhaustion, and her head began to nod towards her chest. Just then the van went over a large bump and Santana jerked back awake, looking at the driver. _Probably did that on purpose_, Santana thought murdurously, hating the woman for bringing her back to reality, _Bitch. _Then the van slowed down and stopped in front of a large concrete building. The two men immediatley grabed the stretcher and began to heft Sam towards the front doors. Kurt got up and made to follow but one of them men held up and hand and said, "You need to be evaluated, you stay with them," jerking his head towards where Santana andBrittany now stood at the side of the car.

"If you think I'm gonna just let you take my bo-… take my friend away without coming…" Kurt began, but the other man was having none of it "I don't 'think', I 'know', now, let us do our jobs. There's nothing more you can do for your 'friend' right now." Kurt stood, mouth open, and tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Brittany stepped forward and gently tugged at his arm.

"Kurt," she tugged again, "Kurt, let them save Sam."

Kurt's shoulders slumped and he turned away from the stretcher. The two men jogged away.

"What if that's the last time I see him?" Kurt said, voice cracking. Santana just stared, unable to say anything that would offer him comfort.

"You three," a sharp voice said, and Santana saw that it was the woman who had been driving them, red hair pulled back in a sharp ponytail, also wearing an army green uniform, "You need to be evaluated. Follow me."

The three of them were lead into the building, where, upon entrance, they were met by a flury of activity. Doctors, nurses, and soldiers made up the majority of the people walking around, but just to their right Santana could see what appeared to be a waiting room, where there were people wearing normal street clothes. A glance at the clock on the far wall showed that it was nearing midnight.

"It's so late," Brittany said, noticing the clock too, "Why is it so crazy in here?"

"If you hadn't noticed, there's a bit of a zombie apocolypse happening right now," the redhead driver said snidly, "What do you think would happen with an influx of ten thousand people on the base? Huh?"

"Hey now," said Santana, hating the way that woman spoke to them.

"It's ok San," Brittany whispered, "She's probably just tired."

"We're all fucking tired," snapped Santana, "Doesn't give her the right to be a bitch."

"That's ironic, coming from you," Kurt remarked dryly.

"Shut it," Santana said.

They had reached a desk with a hefty, uniformed officer behind it. The man had white stubble lining his jaw, and obvious bags under his eyes. But, nonetheless he managed a small smile when they got there.

"What can I do for you Kim?" he asked.

_Kim_ Santana thought, _I'll remember that_.

"These three need to be evaluated Robert" Kim said, gesturing non-commitedly at Brittany, Santana and Kurt.

The man, Robert, sighed loudly, "Seems like we just gone done sortin' the rest of the camp, naturally we'd get more during down time."

"Yeah, sorry for being alive," Kurt muttered somewhat scathingly.

"Ain't not what I meant," Robert said, blinking somewhat indignintly, "I thank the Lord in Heaven every time I see someone new walk in this door. Especially young ones like you. An old man like me just gets tired from time to time."

"Now look who's the bitch," Santana said, smirking at Kurt who said a quick "Sorry", his cheeks flushed.

"Naw it's ok. I know you didn't mean anything by it," Robert said, "Anyways, let's get you guys going. The quicker we get this done, the quicker you will get some sleep. Looks like you need it."

While normally Santana would argue that she looked good no matter what, she started to think that this might be the excetion. She must look a mess.

"Do you still think I'm pretty?" Santana asked Brittany, in a moment of insecurity.

"What?" the other girl said, confused, as Robert guffawed next to them.

"Nevermind," Santana said grumply.

"This ways girls, and boy," Robert said, getting up and gesturing them to follow, "It's ok Kim, I've got them from here."

Kim looked like she couldn't care less and turned to go.

They walked down a long empty hallway. Halfway down the passaeway the lights were turned off making it look like they were walking into a dark hole.

"This base is working off of backup generators," Robert explained, "While they've got a lot of power in them, we have no idea how long this thing is going to last, so whenever there isn't a need to use electricity, we don't."

They made a left, and then Robert pointed through a door while handing them each a clipboard.

"You best start filling these out while you're waiting," the man advised, "They take a while."

"Thanks," all three of them said, and with that Robert left them

Catiously they entered the room. It looked similar to the waiting room when they had entered, only slightly smaller, and for some reason, it felt much more sterile. They each sat down in a hard wooden chair. Santana looked down at the clipboard.

**LAST NAME:**

**FIRST NAME:**

**MIDDLE NAME (FULL): **

**SEX:**

**AGE:**

**WEIGHT:**

**HAIR COLOR:**

**EYE COLOR:**

**ETHNICITY: **

**PLACE OF BIRTH: **

**HOME STATE: **

**HOME CITY: **

**CITIZEN: (CHECK Y/N)**

_**-IF NO, PROVIDE COUNTRY OF ORIGIN:**_

**OCCUPATION:**

**PREVIOUS EMPLOYEES: **

**IF STUDENT, PROVIDE:**

**SCHOOL NAME:**

_**-GRADE:**_

_**-GPA:**_

_**-MAJOR (IF APPLICABLE):**_

_**-HONORS:**_

**VOLUNTEER: **

The list went on and on, covering everything from marital status, relatives' information, extra curriculars, special skills, and hobbies.

"What the hell is this?" Santana asked as she began filling out the first page, "An autobiography?"

Kurt shrugged.

"I don't think I've written this much in my entire life," Brittany stated gloomily, "Is my hand supposed to hurt this bad?"

"Would a kiss make it better?" Santana asked playfully.

Brittany nodded enthusiatically and Santana grabbed her wrist, bringing Brittany's hand to her lips and gently kissing her palm. Brittany smiled, bringing her hand up to the back of Santana's head, tangling her fingers in the dark brown hair, and scratching lightly. Santana closed her eyes and was about to nod off, when, for the second time she was interrupted. This time it was from a woman and man entering the room, both wearing white doctor's coats.

"Hello, I am Dr. Montgomery" the woman said, "If you two-" she gestured to Brittany and Santana "-will come with me. We will begin your evaluation."

"And you," the man said gruffly, gesturing at Kurt, "come with me."

"But-" Santana began to protest.

"You'll see him soon," Dr. Montgomery said gently, already motioning for the girls to follow her.

* * *

><p>Brittany and Santana were brought into a large, white room, complete with an examination table, computer a few strange looking machines standing next to it, and what appeared to be a large, somewhat industrial looking shower.<p>

"Now I'm afraid, first things first, we need to get you both completely washed off," said Dr. Montgomery, "We don't want to risk anything coming in from outside of this base."

Brittany and Santana just stared at her.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Montgomery said, "But I'm afraid all modesty must be left at the door. If you don't mind undressing and putting your clothes in these two bags, then we can begin." As an afterthought the woman said, "If one of you would like to go first, the other can sit over there by the examination table. I know how self conscious girls can get."

Santana blushed, and Brittany smiled a little.

"I think we'll be ok," Brittany said.

"Wonderful" said the doctor.

Brittany began shedding her jacket and boots, Santana following her lead. However, when it came time to remove her pants Santana was stuck.

"Umm" Santana said, somewhat hopelessly gesturing to the backs of her thighs.

"Oh dear," said Dr. Montgomery, "This might take a bit longer than usual."

Santana was asked to lay face down on the examination table, as the doctor carefully used a pair of tweezers to pull out all the shards of glass and placing them into a metal bowl. Brittany sat on a stool by Santana's side, squeezing her hand. It seemed to drag on for ages until Santana wondered if there had ever been a point where she had been without this pain. Finally after what seemed like hours, it was over. Afterwards Brittany and Santana were asked to go into the shower where hot jets of water attacked their skin, as if attempting to rid them of the very smallest specks of dirts. The feeling of the water on her freshly opened wounds was enough to make Santana's knees buckle, but before she could, Brittany grabbed her arms and held her up.

"I'm sorry about that girls," Dr. Montgomery said once they were out and wrapped in towels, "But we really can't risk anything coming in with you guys. That's why we'll be cleaning these as well," she nodded her head towards the bag with their clothes.

"Oh wait!" Santana said, "I need to get something from there."

Brittany tilted her head curiously as Santana dug through her clothing and pulled out the two photos of Brittany's family and the Glee Club that she had slipped in her pocket in Lima. By now they were worn and tattered.

"I didn't know you had those," Brittany said softly, staring into Santana's eyes.

"I thought we would want them," Santana said, trying to brush it off by shrugging her shoulders.

Brittany stepped forward and captured Santana's lips in hers, gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Ummm," Santana said awkwardly, stepping back and quickly looking towards Dr. Montgomery, who didn't say anything. Santana thought she could see the doctors mouth twitch upwards despite the fact that she was pointedly looking away.

"Right," said Dr. Montgomery when it appeared the two girls were done, "let's get all your wounds dressed and then we'll have what is, more or less, a routine check up."

Santana's thighs were coated with a soothing cream and covered in bandages, which Dr. Montgomery said had to be reapplied every day. Brittany had to get stitches on a deep gash that Santana hadn't even seen earlier, running near her collarbone.

"I'm ok," Brittany said when Santana gave her a worried look.

They were each given a bottle of standard painkillers and then Dr. Montgomery handed them each a set of army green sweatpants and a cotton shirt. "For until you get your regular clothes."

Both girls were made to do eye and ear tests, their motor reflexes were checked and they had to give urine samples.

Santana looked at the clock, realizing that it had almost been three hours since they arrived at the hospital. Just then Puck barged into the room.

"Doctor," he said, nodding his head at Dr. Montgomery before turning to Santana and Brittany, "Sorry it took me so long to find you guys. I had to be debriefed and then I went to check on Sam."

At their inquiring looks he said, "He's fine. He lost a lot of blood and there is some infection, but they managed to get the bullet out.. He's still unconscious though."

"We're almost done here, so Mr. Puckerman, if you don't mind" Dr Montgomery said, pointing to a chair. He took a seat.

"Now, as you can imagine, life on the base is different that life as you are probably used to," Dr. Montgomery said, "We are still establishing how things are going to run, but you will choose either civilian or military service. Within each of these there are a variety of positions."

The doctor looked inquiringly at both girls.

"Wait…we have to choose now?" Santana asked, somewhat indignantly.

"You're expected to begin work tomorrow Ms. Lopez," Dr. Montgomery said nodding, "There's a lot to be done."

Santana stared questioningly at Brittany. "What do you think?"

Brittany shrugged, "I don't know. I've never really had a job before."

"Military get's better lodging," Puck whispered, "Choose civilian service and you'll have one of those tents. Might have to share with other people too."

Santana shuddered, but nodded. "I'll do military service." Brittany nodded in agreement.

"Wonderful," said Dr. Montgomery, and she checked a box, "You'll have something akin to orientation tomorrow where they will figure out what duty is best suited for you."

Santana nodded, not knowing what to say or do. As if sensing the uncertainty in the room, Dr. Montgomery gave a warm smile, gently rubbing both girls' arms. "You'll be just fine, don't you worry."

Santana worried.

* * *

><p>Puck followed as both girls returned their paperwork to Robert. He gave them a jovial smile that Santana couldn't return, before taking their pictures and their thumbprints.<p>

"I think your other friend is waiting for ya," Robert said, nodding towards the waiting room where they could see Kurt passed out in one of the chairs.

Robert handed them what looked like a small green ticket.

"Form says your checked out for military service, so here's where you'll be bunking. I think Mr. Puckerman here can show you the way." Puck nodded.

They made their way over to Kurt and Santana shook him awake.

"Huh? Wha-?" Kurt sputtered, wiping at some drool on the corner of his mouth.

"You get a housing ticket?" Puck asked.

"Yeah," Kurt replied, handing Puck his ticket, which was blue.

"Civillian service?" Puck questioned, and Kurt nodded.

"Alright, let's go."

They dragged their feet on the ground as Puck led them through the base. He was explaining how it was set up into blocks and subdivisions, but Santana knew it would all be forgotten by morning. Eventually they arrived at a group of ugly brick buildings. "You guys are in this one," Puck nodded his head towards the building directly in front of them and handing Santana and Brittany their ticket.

"I'm going to go ahead and take Kurt to his wonderous living quarters," Puck said.

Before she could help it, Santana stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the young man, check pressed tightly against his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered. Puck squeezed her shoulders, then stepped back, and walked away with Kurt by his side. Santana didn't know why it hurt so much to see them go.

"Shall we?" Brittany asked.

"We shall," Santana nodded, bringing her hand to grip Brittany's as they stepped through the door. The hallways were dark and it took them about fifteen minutes to finally find their door. When they did Santana opened it.

The room was tiny, with one bunk bed, a small desk squeezed next to it and a narrow wardrobe by its side. A small window high up on the far facing wall let in a sliver of moonlight, but other than that they were shrowded in darkness. Santana attempted to turn on the light, but when she flicked the switch nothing happened. Groaning Santana flopped face down on the bed, feeling the springs poking through the matress. A weight next to her indicated that Brittany did the same. Sure enough, Santana was soon pulled into Brittany's body. Not one to complain, Santana immediately curled into the warmth, nuzzling her face in Brittany's neck and inhaling deeply.

"Here," Brittany said, squirming a little so that she could bring the blanket they were on over their bodies before bringing her arms once more around Santana. Santana's entire body felt like lead. Already her eyelids were falling.

She wasn't sure what their time at the base would bring, but for now all she could think about was sleep. "I love you," Santana said, beginning to doze off. She could feel Brittany respond, more than hear her, as her lips moved near Santana's head. With that, darkness fell.


	9. Chapter 8

**Many apologies for the extremely late update. I moved to a different country for a bit and was honestly quite busy with other things. I thank everyone who has stuck with this. There are more exciting things to come, I promise. Read, review, let me know what you think. (The M warning will be more appropriate for this chapter and those to come.) **

Santana awoke to the sound of sirens.

Jerking up, she knocked her head into the bunk above her. Cursing, and slightly cross-eyed, Santana looked around her. The tiny window in the room was letting in a dull stream of orange light, as if the sun had just risen. A motion to her right let her know Brittany was waking up as well. Just as quickly as the sirens began, they stopped.

"What the fuck?" Santana groaned.

Brittany let out a small mewl of displeasure before wrapping her arm around Santana's midriff and burying her head beneath her arm.

There was a knock on the door.

"One second," Santana rasped out, her voice still laden with sleep.

"Come on Brit," Santana said, tugging at the blonde gently.

"Don't wanna," was mumbled back at her as the blonde flopped back onto the bed...

Chuckling, Santana pulled her legs from beneath the thin blanket and set her feet on the ground. She groaned as she felt the previous days injuries awakening alongside her. Her legs were stiff as boards, and her arms felt as though they had been ripped off her body, then reattached.

Dragging herself to the door, Santana opened it to reveal the same sandy haired boy that had greeted them at the entrance of the base the night before. He was wearing the same smile as he had been then, and, she noted, his teeth were just as crooked.

"Mornin'," the boy said, his grin growing even wider. Santana winced as she contemplated the future of orthodontia in this zombie-infested world. She grunted in response.

"Probably wonderin' what that loud noise was, eh?" he chuckled.

Santana jerked her head in response.

"Think of it as a base-wide alarm clock," he said.

"You mean that's going to happen every morning?" Brittany's voice came from behind Santana, as she slowly made her way out of bed. The boy looked at her, and Santana thought she could see the way his eyes traveled from Brittany to the untouched top bunk. She may have been imagining it, but Santana thought it seemed as if the boy's smile dropped just the tiniest bit, just as his eyes narrowed a fraction. But, just like that his crooked teeth were back on Brittany in a wide grin as he said, "Afraid so. At least for now, with everything getting sorted out, we need everyone working."

Both girls nodded in understanding.

"Ok," said the boy, "First things first, my name is Jeremy." He stuck out his hand. Santana looked at Brittany, and the blonde shook it.

"Brittany," said the blonde, before saying "and this is Santana."

"Right," Jeremy said, "Puckerman told me a bit about y'all last night."

At Santana's frown, he added "All good things, promise."

There was a moment of silence before Jeremy clapped his hands together and said "Right, so I'm going to give you guys your induction into life on the base. If you want to get changed, I'll wait for you out here," he gestured to the hallway.

"What time is it?" Brittany asked curiously.

"5am. " Jeremy laughed at Santana's indignant expression as he closed the door behind him.

"I can't get up at 5 every morning," Santana groaned, as she dramatically clung on to Brittany. The blonde chuckled as she placed a reassuring kiss on the top of Santana's head. "I believe in you babe," the blonde said as she tilted Santana's face towards hers and pressed there lips together. Santana sighed contentedly, as she stood straighter and pressed herself closer to Brittany, bringing her hands to rest underneath the back of her shirt. Brittany smiled into the kiss, but didn't protest, and quickly brought her tongue out to skate across Santana's bottom lip. Santana groaned as she brought her arms up and dragged her nails slowly down Brittany's back, her mouth open and hot breaths coming out in short gasps.

"There should be some clothes in the closet if yer having trouble finding it," came Jeremey's muffled voice on the other side of the door.

"Crap," Santana sighed, as she resignedly stepped back from the blonde.

Brittany gave her a small smile before saying "Well let's see what kind of swag we get" as she walked towards the wardrobe. In the light, Santana could see that everything in the room was painted a drab grey, and all the furniture was made with a cold, grey metal. If possible, the room looked even smaller than it had when they had come to it the night before, comparable to Harry Potter's closet under the stairs.

All that turned out to be in the wardrobe was a pare of rough green cargo pants each, and two more tan colored shirts identical to what they were wearing.

"Stylish," Santana remarked dryly as she pulled down the sweatpants they had been handed at the hospital and began to pull on the smaller pair of pants.

"I feel ridiculous," the brunette muttered, looking down at the pants, which were a far cry from formfitting and had to be rolled up once in order to avoid dragging on the ground.

Brittany just laughed, and pressed a kiss to Santana's cheek. "You always look hot." Santana blushed and said "Easy for you to say." Indeed, the pants didn't look bad on the blonde at all; perfectly complementing her long legs.

After a minute they were both dressed and opened the door to find Jeremy leaning against the wall. Again, his eyes flashed briefly, but his smile was back in a second.

"Righteo, let's go!" he motioned for them to follow.

They stepped outside into the morning glow, and were surprised at the amount of activity going on around them. Trucks were driving past them laden with boxes, and men and women wearing the same outfit as both Santana and Brittany were running everywhere.

"So I'm going to give you a rundown of the base," Jeremy said, "Then, at lunch Pukerman offered to give you a detail on your assignments."

Santana and Brittany nodded, as if they had a clue what that meant and followed Jeremy as he began to walk around.

Originally established as a base for Chemical Defense Training,Fort Leanord Wood had been expanded from its original 2x3 mile facility into a 5x5 mile enclosure. In the span of a day, apparently, they had set up 2,000 tents, which comprised a quarter of the area. Jeremy took Santana and Brittany by the rows and rows of tents, which looked to be no more than rough canvas on poles, with a large number spray painted on one side, and with 3-4 cots set up within each one. "Cozy," Santana remarked dryly, and Jeremy laughed. Santana wondered how Kurt was settling in, and wished there was a way to find him, and see how both he and Sam were doing. She couldn't imagine him taking to kindly to sharing one of these tents.

Next, they were shown the dining halls.

"Everyone gets a time slot for meals," Jeremy explained, "It depends on your job assignment, and it ensures that we don't have 10,000 people crowding the area come lunch time. When Puckerman gives you your assignment, you'll also get a schedule that more or less maps things out for you."

"Also," Jeremy added as they continued walking, "We've got civilians that are in charge of cleaning, but, as a sign of respect, try not a make to much of a mess."

Brittany and Santana nodded.

"Not sure if anyone has mentioned this to you either, but seeing as we're trying to ration everything, energy and water included, everyone is given one laundry token a month. Use it well."

Santana gapped as they kept moving.

Jeremy took them to the 'Hub' which was a giant open pavilion, with computerized message boards lining the sides. Here there were announcements as well as information about the other bases. This is where people would go to post about missing persons, search for loved ones and relay messages. Santana and Brittany agreed to revisit the boards later in the day; too overwhelmed at the moment.

"So who's running all this?" Santana asked.

"Well, President's dead, so is VP, Secretary of State, and the list goes on. The folks that were left and that are at bases like this have made something of a panel until things get sorted. We've got a couple here, I think, but honestly I don't know who they are. Since this was already an established base, there is already structure, at least on the military end of things. Other than that, there's a board that discusses the civilian/military coexistence, and I think there's some woman in charge of that…Sylvester…something…"

"You have got to be kidding me," Santana said, looking over to Brittany who had a look of horror on her face.

"Any chance she's the one who decided on the siren alarm clocks?" Brittany ask.

"Umm it's possible," Jeremy said.

"We're doomed," Santana said, holding her head in her hands.

Their induction into life on the base lasted a few hours, and afterwards Santana was reeling. Jeremy had told them when to go grab lunch and where they would be meeting Puck, but before then, he reminded Santana that she had to run over to the hospital and get her bandages changed. He dropped both of them off in front of the building and told them he had to go back to his spot at the gate, but that he would be there if either of them had any questions. Brittany thanked Jeremy for both of them, and then they were alone.

Stepping into the hospital, it was apparent that they had come at a down time the night before. People were racing left and right, there were doctors and nurses in scrubs, as well as uniformed soldiers with guns at their sides.

"Wonder what they're for," Santana muttered, nodding towards the shoulders.

Brittany shrugged, but there was a glimmer of fear in her eyes.

They walked up to the desk they were admitted under last night and were surprised to see Robert still sitting there.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" Santana asked.

"Good morning to you too," Robert said and when Santana didn't say anything he said, "As a matter of fact, I did, not long after you left."

"Ok, good." Santana said briskly, then added "I need to get new bandages."

Robert nodded and dialed a number on the phone.

"Dr. Montgomery will be right out."

"Oh good, I liked her," Brittany said, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet.

Just then, they saw Kurt walk by, following an older man wearing scrubs.

"Kurt!" Brittany shouted.

The boy stopped, startled, and turned to look at them before a tired smiled crossed is face. He said something to the man in the scrubs, who nodded, before bounding over to the two and engulfing them in a giant hug.

"I was so worried I wouldn't be able to find you," Kurt said breathlessly.

"Wow now," said Santana "You know I like girls, right?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and ignored her. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked.

"Getting San's bandages changed," said Brittany, "What about you?"

"Oh, right, I guess I will be working here, at least for now, so I'm getting shown around," Kurt jerked his thumb back to where the man in the scrubs was now chatting with Robert.

"This place is insane," Kurt said in a hush, "There are like 700 people being treated right now, and those guards are here in cases anyone has even a slight trace of the infection." Kurt made a slicing motion across his throat.

"You're kidding," Santana said, slightly horrified.

"Nope," Kurt said gravely, "I mean look what happened last time they stuck people in quarantine. This base could be overrun in less than an hour."

Just then a slight clearing of the throat made them turn around. Dr. Montgomery was behind them "Santana?" she asked "How about we look at those legs of yours."

"Sure," said Santana, turning to Kurt she asked "Which is your tent? We should meet up later."

After Kurt told them where to go he jogged back to the man in the scrubs and the two girls were left to follow Dr. Montgomery.

"How'd you girls sleep?" Dr. Montgomery asked.

"Like a baby," Santana remarked.

"Like a normal person," Brittany added.

Dr. Montgomery chuckled before showing them into an examination room.

"You mind taking those off," Dr. Montgomery motioned to Santana's pants.

"God no," said Santana as she pulled them down.

Brittany held Santana's hand as Dr. Montgomery removed the bandages which were stained red and replaced them with a fresh set. The doctor's eyes flicked to their joined hands briefly before continuing with her work.

"Brittany," Dr. Montgomery said, "would you feel comfortable changing these for the next week or so?" She held up a roll of bandages.

"Sure." Brittany smiled.

"What? Had enough of me already?" Santana asked.

"I'm a busy woman," Dr. Montgomery said gently, "Lots of patients to see, and from what I've seen, I don't think Brittany would mind patching you up."

Santana gave her a sharp look, but the doctor's eyes lacked judgment, if anything they held worry. She looked as if she wanted to say something.

"What?" Santana snapped, uncomfortable being stared at, while still lying half naked on the table.

"I saw that Congressman's ad," Dr. Montgomery said, "I was trying to pinpoint why you looked so familiar when I saw you last night, and then when I saw you with Brittany I remembered."

"So?" Now Santana was even more uncomfortable, "You have a problem with it? With me and Brits?" Brittany squeezed her hand but didn't say anything, for she too was looking inquisitively at the doctor.

"No, no, not at all," Dr. Montgomery said, her voice gentle, "but some people might."

Santana's heart was beating erratically, and some of the fear that she had experienced with her public outing began to resurface. The older woman looked like she had more to say, so Santana stayed quiet.

"Look, I have no idea what your relationship is like, and how comfortable you girls are with being…public…" the doctor hesitated, "but you need to be careful around here." When it looked like Santana was about to say something, the doctor continued "Don't get me wrong, I think what you two have is wonderful, but when it comes down to it, we're living on an army base, and a lot of folks here have rather antiquated views of right and wrong."

For a brief moment Santana thought of the way Jeremy had looked into their room. Her stomach churned a little.

"So what are you suggesting," Brittany asked, and Santana was glad she had said something, not trusting her voice.

"Keep things private."

They left the hospital ten minutes later, stocked up with bandages and salve, Dr. Montgomery's words lingering in both of their minds. They had to return to the barracks to deposit their stuff before they met up with Puck. Their entire walk back was silent.

Once they were in their room and the door was closed, Santana looked at Brittany and asked "What are you thinking about right now?"

"How much I want to kiss you," Brittany answered without hesitation.

Santana gave a small smile and leaned forward, puckering her lips. Brittany smiled and leaned forward, brushing her lips softly against Santana's.

"I love you," Santana sighed as she pulled away, just enough that their foreheads were touching.

"I love you too," said Brittany, before pulling Santana towards her again.

"Of all the shitty things that have happened, I honestly didn't think this would be a problem," Santana professed into Brittany's neck, "You would think a zombie apocalypse would put things in perspective for all the meatheads out there."

Brittany nodded into Santana's shoulder.

"It's kind of funny…" Santana said, no trace of amusement in her voice, "I was so intent on hiding our relationship, and I was so devastated when Finn outed me, but now..? I don't want to go back."

"I know," Brittany cooed.

"I mean, how do you feel about it?" Santana inquired, somewhat desperately.

"I think it sucks," Brittany said plainly, "I think it sucks that I can't kiss my girlfriend whenever I want…which is all the time. I think it sucks that people can't just be happy for us. I think it sucks that the same thing will probably happen to Sam and Kurt. I think it sucks."

They stood in the middle of the room holding each other without saying a word.

At 12.15 they met Puck.

He was sitting at a table, grinning as they approached. He got up, picking them both up in his arms when they were close enough and spun them around.

"Ah! Stop it!" Brittany giggled.

"Yeah, stop it _Private_!" Santana yelled.

Chuckling, Puck set them down. They got their lunch: sandwiches and an apple and then sat down at the table Puck had saved.

"So," Puck began, "What do you think?"

"Where to even start…" Santana said.

Puck laughed and said "I know, I thought the same thing when I got here a few days ago."

"How did you get here?" Santana asked perplexed.

Puck looked troubled for a second and then began his story.

_It was a shit show in Lima, I'm sure you guys know. No? Oh, well, it was. People trying to get out but not knowing where to go, not knowing where the infected were, where they would be. Honestly, I was just fucking angry. I'm too young to die. What would this world be without the mighty Puckasauruss? So, I joined the 'front line' down on main street. Lots of people had managed to get out, but a lot of people wanted to stay. They didn't have anywhere to go, like my mom and sister. So, someone had to protect them. Honestly San, I know this is bad, but killing those motherfuckers felt millions of times better than any of those video games we played ever did. It just felt right. Well, that is, until I saw them infecting this little girl, and then I thought of Quinn, and Beth. It's fucked up, it really is._

_Anyways, it was pretty obvious that we weren't getting anywhere, so I ran back home, but my mom and sister were gone. No note or anything. I think they must have thought I was a goner and left. I think that's what must have happened…Well, I got my baseball bat and went back out there. Not gonna lie, I thought that was it. I was in the middle of busting this guys brains out when this truck pulled up. It was military, I could tell in a second. They asked if I wanted to join up, and I said why not. Some dude handed me a rifle and that was that. We did a few sweeps of the town and got as many folks as we could, but within the hour it was over, so we hightailed it out of there. We drove about an hour and were dropped off at a helipad. The guys went off to keep scouting and I was taken here with about 10 other dudes. Same as you guys, we were inspected, shown the rounds and told to sign up for service. I've been on patrol for the past few days, and that's what I was doing when we found you guys. We had been tipped off that the area was completely infested and were told to eradicate them. Not a bad job if I say so myself. _

Puck paused and looked at them. Brittany's eyes had been glistening ever since Puck mentioned Beth, and Santana wasn't fairing much better.

"Anyways…" Puck concluded, "That was sort of it. Now we're here. Together."

"Have you heard of anyone else? Your mom, sister?" Brittany asked.

Puck sighed, and looked at them with heavy eyes. "I have heard some things, yeah. I've been checking the Hub a few times a day. I looked for you guys, of course, but there wasn't any information." Puck cleared his throat, "Good news, Quinn is here." Santana's heart leapt, she couldn't believe it. She turned to Brittany, who grabbed her hand, tears rolling freely down her face. Puck continued, "Also, Rachel somehow managed to make it to some base in New York. Honestly, that girl was going to get there one way or another, zombies be damned." Santana chuckled, and almost laughed with relief, but the stony expression on Puck's face made her stop.

"What is it Puck?" Santana asked.

"No word on Finn, Artie, Mike, Tina, my mom, or sister" Puck looked up, "and Schue and Mercedes…they…they didn't make it."

Everything stopped.

Brittany gasped and choked back a sob.

Santana's vision went blurry.

She couldn't breath. Thoughts of Glee club and of the Troubletonnes ran through her mind. How could they be? It wasn't possible. How could the world never know the voice of Mercedes Jones…and Mr. Schue? No.

Santana stood up, but she had nowhere to go. Puck stood up and took her into his arms. She felt a body pressed into her back and could tell that Brittany was behind her as well.

It was too much, everything was too much. Was this what it would be like now? Everyday learning yet again about the loss of a friend or family member. If so, she wasn't strong enough.

"How are we supposed to do this Puck?" she asked, voice cracking.

"I don't know San, I don't know."

An hour later Puck informed them that he was supposed to show them their positions. By then their tears had dried, and their eyes were red and rubbed raw.

"So, based on your evaluations, San, you're patrol, and Brittany, you're on guard duty," Puck said.

"What-" Santana said, experiencing another shock to her system, "You mean we aren't together? We don't get a choice? That's a load of bullcrap."

"It's just for now," Puck explained, "If you guys really don't like it you can request a switch." He pulled out two pieces of paper "These are your schedules, look, you have the same breakfast and dinner slots at least."

Brittany looked just as distressed as Santana felt.

"Well this is just fucking great," Santana spat, feeling her anger rise. How was this fair? It wasn't!

"Come on Lopez," Puck said, managing a small grin, "You'll be with me and we'll get to go blow shit up together."

"But what about B," Santana pouted.

"Well," Puck said slowly, "She can protect everyone here, make sure that it's safe to come back to."

Santana's pout didn't disappear.

"Anyways," Puck said, "Sometimes there wont be a patrol for the day and you'll be able to hang around base, and not be useful."

Santana punched him in the shoulder, but couldn't help the small grin that was beginning to form, she looked over at Brittany, who shrugged.

"Atta girl," said Puck.

Puck took them to where they were to check in each day. This was also where they would be given all their weapons, which were to be returned at the end of each day. Puck gave the man his name and ID and was handed a rifle.

"Don't they care that we don't have any sort of training…or gun license?" Brittany asked Santana under her breath. But before Santana could say anything a rifle was being pressed into her chest.

"This will be yours," the man checking them out said, while writing the number of the gun next to Santana's information on a sheet in his hand. He did the same for Brittany, who was still looking perplexed.

"We actually had our own stuff when we got here," said Santana, somewhat tentatively. She knew it was silly, but in those few days she had grown familiar with the range of weapons they had kept in the car.

"I'll look into it," the man said gruffly before turning his back to them.

Santana supposed that meant they were dismissed. Turning back to Puck she asked, "So what next?"

"Now we begin," Puck said grimly.

It was with great anxiety that Santana parted from Brittany at the gate. Remembering Dr. Montgomery's words, Santana stopped herself before she leaned in for a kiss, and, instead, pulled the other girl into a bone-crushing hug. Jeremy was at the gate once again, and had told Brittany he would show her around guard duty. Santana's eyes narrowed when she saw him.

Since Puck was also on patrol, he was taking Santana. Puck was walking along the road, with Santana following blindly.

"Patrol is essentially split into three groups: Perimeter, Scouting and Long," Puck explained, "Perimeter runs the same loop pretty much everyday: essentially securing the safety in the immediate area. Then scouts look for potential threats and identify hubs of activity. The team that goes long can be gone for days. We've got some folks out there right now. They essentially are taking a proactive method of zombie control and are looking to exterminate as many as possible." There was a glint in Puck's eyes as he said this.

"So what am I?" Santana asked.

"Well, we all switch around," Puck said, "But, if you have a preference, they'll take that into consideration. Since you're new, you'll probably start off doing perimeter."

They turned a corner and entered a large garage with various army vehicles parked within. A few people were milling about, and turned as Puck and Santana drew closer.

"Puckerman! We've been waiting!" said a dark skinned man with tattoos covering his arms. He was attractive, Santana noted, with a trimmed mustache and beard, and small studs in his ears. Still, _not my type_, Santana thought, thinking of blue eyes and blonde hair as she sighed.

"Sorry," Puck said, a smile on his face, "Just getting us our newest recruit. This is Lopez." He clapped a hand on Santana's shoulder. She promptly shook it off.

"Glad to have you," the man said extending his arm, "The name is Graven."

Santana shook his hand, trying to keep her grip as firm as possible.

"Ready for your first patrol?" Graven asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Santana said grimly.

Graven laughed and said, "That's the attitude!" before directing her to one of the jeeps. Three people were placed in each jeep: one driver, and two sitting back with rifles position outwards. Santana and Puck were put together with Graven driving, while another jeep followed behind them.

They spent the next two hours driving in a spiral around the base, with their range growing farther as more time passed. Things were relatively quite, with only two encounters with infected, both of which were taken care of by carefully aimed shots by Puck. Santana had to admit that she was impressed.

"That turn you on Lezpez?" Puck had yelled to Santana after his second kill. Santana had jerked her head quickly to see if Graven had heard, and after ensuring that he hadn't Santana quickly kicked Puck in the shin. She smirked as he sent forth a range of cusses.

However, after they turned to head back, Graven slowed down. "10 o'clock!" he yelled. The sun was slowly setting, but even Santana could make out the mass of bodies moving in their direction.

"Lock and load!" Puck shouted before scrambling to Santana's side and pointing his rifle. From this vantage point, Santana could count roughly fifteen bodies making their way towards the base.

"Wait for it…" Puck whispered, his hot breath in her ear.

Santana shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of Brittany. This was going to be ok. She opened her eyes again, and now they were less than 30 meters away.

"In three." Puck said, "One-two-"

But shots had already began from the other vehicle, and they were pointed in the opposite direction.

"Shit!" Graven yelled, as twenty more zombies came from the opposite side.

"Cover this side Lopez!" Puck yelled before returning to the other side of the Jeep and firing.

Santana looked hard and narrowed down on her target: a fat man with his jaw hanging off to an angle. She pulled the trigger and watched as his brain exploded.

"Nice Lopez!" said Graven who was also firing on her side.

Puck was laughing hysterically and firing non-stop. Santana closed her eyes again and refocused on a new target: a woman in a track suit. Thinking of Sue Sylvester, Santana aimed her rifle once more and watched the bullet blow the zombie apart. And so it continued until half an hour later there were non left, the final body dropping 3 meters away from the car.

"I'd say we have had about enough," Graven said looking back at Santana and Puck who both nodded.

The ride back to the base was silent as Santana mulled over the things that had happened that day. Jeremy, the words of advice from Dr. Montgomery, Puck's story…

"Wait," Santana said quite loudly, "Where's Quinn?!"

In their remorse over the loss of their friends, Santana had completely forgotten that Puck had said that Quinn was also there.

Puck looked up, surprised, but he grinned nonetheless.

"I'll show you."

By the time they returned to the base, night had fallen. Santana insisted that they collect Brittany before going to see Quinn, and Puck agreed.

Brittany launched herself at Santana, pressing her hands against her arms and asking her if she was ok. After ensuring there were no new injuries, Santana told Brittany where they were going. A giant smile erupted on Brittany's face.

"I can't believe she's here," Brittany said.

Surprisingly, Puck was bringing them towards the dining hall.

"Puck," Santana warned, "Control your fat ass, food can wait."

"Calm yourself Lopez," Puck said as he took them to the back of the building.

They walked through an unmarked door and down a long unlit hallway. Finally, Puck turned right and made his way into what appeared to be a giant kitchen. Santana saw a head of blonde hair, back turned to them. Puck sidled up next to the young woman, who jumped, obviously startled before saying "Puck, I swear, if I have to tell you one more time not to come in here and steal food…what?" she stopped as Puck jerked his head behind her.

With that, Quinn Fabray turned around to face Brittany and Santana.

And fainted.

It took a few minutes for them to revive the blonde, and when they did, she came to both laughing and sobbing, arms circling both Santana and Brittany with surprising strength.

"You!" she practically yelled, "You two! I can't believe it! Thank you god."

"No need to thank me," Puck smirked, and all three girls hit him in the chest.

They sat on the floor with Quinn for a while, as they exchanged adventures. Quinn and her mom had traveled straight to Fort Leanord Wood, with surprisingly few incidents. Turns out Judy was quite handy with a gun, and had managed to keep them safe while also managing to relieve the stick up her ass at the same time (Santana's words). Choosing a much more direct route than that of Santana and Brittany, Quinn and her mom had arrived within a day of the infection.

"Shit," Quinn said, looking up at the clock on the wall, "I need to work."

They made arrangements to meet the next morning at breakfast, and with a final hug they bid each other farewell.

"Hey guys," Puck said tentatively, "I'm gonna just stay here for a bit, k? I'll see you later." And with a wink he stepped back through the kitchen doors.

"Um, what was that?" Santana said, holding her finger up in indignation, "We get kicked out since Quinn has to work, but Puck is fine?"

Brittany started humming Teenage Dream, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"If we get a baby 2.0, I don't know if I'll be able to control myself," Santana said.

"How else are we supposed to repopulate the world though?" Brittany asked innocently.

Santana paused, "Shit B, you're right. Anyways, let's check in on Lady Hummel and fill him in."

They grabbed dinner to go and then made their way to Kurt's tent.

Peeking under the flap Santana sniggered and then turned back to Brittany, her fingers to her lips. Brittany leaned under the flap too and saw the tent was empty except for Kurt, who was passed out on a cot. Creeping until she was directly over him, Santana grinned and leaned down before blowing on his face.

Kurt let out a shriek that was most likely heard across the entire span of the camp. Santana immediately clapped her hand over his mouth and swore.

"Jesus Hummel calm your tits!"

Kurt's eyes went from wide and shocked to narrow and angry in the span of a second and he grabbed Santana's hand off his mouth.

"You are the biggest tool I know!" he hissed, as Brittany giggled behind them.

"Yeah, well this tool has got the talk of the town, but I suppose…if you don't want to know…" Santana made as if she was going to walk away when Kurt said, "What talk?"

With that, Brittany and Santana immediately plopped down on the cot across from him as they told him all the days events.

When it came time to tell him about Mercedes and Mr. Schue, they crossed the tent to sit on either side of him. They stayed with him for hours as he cried, laying him down and both girls taking a place on either side of him; holding hands across his shaking form, as their own tears fell once more down their cheeks. When they told him about Quinn and Puck he managed a small smile before more tears fell down his face. Finally, as the clock neared 11 and Kurt's breathing had evened out, Santana looked over at Brittany. It was time to go. Both of them placed a kiss on Kurt's forehead before leaving the tent.

The girls held hands as they walked back to their barrack under the cover of darkness, Santana leaning slightly into Brittany; drawing strength from the other girl.

When they entered their room it was quiet.

"What a day," Santana finally said as they stood looking at one another.

Brittany nodded grimly.

"Were you scared?" Brittany asked.

"When?" Santana said.

"Today, on patrol," Brittany clarified.

"Britt…" Santana began, "I'm scared all the time."

The blonde moved quickly and closed the distance between them, pressing their mouths together. When they parted Brittany said, "You have to promise to be careful."

Santana brought their lips back together, she bit down gently on Brittany's lip and the other girl let out a small gasp.

"B, I'm always careful when you're concerned," Santana let out between breaths.

The blonde grabbed the hem of Santana's shirt and yanked it over her head, with Santana quickly doing the same. Both of them leaned down to pull off their pants. Once they were removed, Santana took a second to appreciate the other girl. With only the moonlight shining through the small window, Brittany was highlighted only by a soft glow that caressed her curves. Santana spun them both around, pinning Brittany to the wall; her hands grabbing the other girls' and pressing them high above her head. Brittany groaned as Santana placed her thigh between her legs. Santana scraped her teeth down Brittany's neck, smoothing the skin over with her tongue and blowing gently. Brittany bucked her hips, her own legs moving roughly against Santana's center and both girls moaned, Santana moving her mouth once more to cover Brittany's; wet and frantic.

Brittany wrenched her hands down and lifted Santana off the ground, carrying her over to the bed. The blonde slipped her thigh in between Santana's legs and rubbed it slowly up and down, hips gyrating from side to side. Santana grabbed Brittany's head and brought it forcefully down biting, scraping, and soothing, trying as hard as she could to be as close to the other girl as possible. Reaching behind Brittany, Santana unclasped the girl's bra and threw it to the other side of the room, hands immediately finding their way to cover Brittany's breasts; brushing her fingers against hardened peaks before pinching them gently. Brittany gave a small cry and ground deeper into Santana's center. Brittany scraped at Santana's back and before long Santana's bra was thrown alongside Brittany's. Brittany leaned down and took a dark nipple in her mouth, tongue swirling around and toying with it lightly. The brunette shuddered as Brittany's hands scraped down her sides before coming to rest at the waistband of her underwear. Santana arched her body upwards; begging to be touched.

Brittany grinned, pulling her face from Santana's breasts and placing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth before moving a hand beneath the fabric and sliding her fingers between Santana's wet folds. "You're soaking" Brittany husked, hot breath tickling Santana's ear, and then the blonde dragged her tongue slowly along the brunette's ear, at the same time as she entered her with two fingers. Santana let out a soft cry as Brittany's long fingers plunged deep within her, thumb softly brushing her clit. It was sad how quickly her body reacted; tensing as Brittany roughly rocked in and out, while pressing gentle kisses everywhere on her body. Santana moved her body, thrusting up in time with Brittany's hand. Brittany had been right: she was soaking, and she was ready. With a final jerk, Brittany scraped just _there _and Santana had to withhold a scream as Brittany rubbed circles around her clit, drawing her out until every bit of tension left her body. Santana pulled Brittany weakly down until their bodies were touching everywhere; Santana's body still thrumming.

After a minute Santana moved her head and brushed their noses together; back and forth, back and forth. Brittany laughed quietly.

"I love your smile," Santana said softly.

"You make me smile," Brittany replied.

Santana grinned and pressed herself up into Brittany, rolling their bodies until she was on top; straddling Brittany's waist. She rolled her hips and Brittany moaned.

"I make you smile?" Santana said. Brittany frantically nodded, her eyes closed.

"How much?" Santana asked, pausing her hips in midair. Brittany gasped.

"Sannnn," she begged. Santana loved when she begged.

"How much?" Santana asked again, before biting down on Brittany's earlobe and licking the shell of her ear.

"More than you know," Brittany breathed out, and Santana's eyes grew tender.

"You make me smile too B," Santana said before bringing her body down Brittany's torso.

Santana hooked her hands around Brittany's underwear and brought them down her long legs. She then looked up at Brittany's legs; spread open and waiting for her. Even in this low light, Santana could see the girl glistening. She licked her lips. No matter how many times they did this, Santana would never be used to this sight. Leaning forward, Santana pressed her nose to Brittany's sex and inhaled.

"Fuck Brit, you smell so good," Santana said. She gently brought her hands to each of Brittany's thighs and pushed them wider apart. Brittany's whole body was quivering, but she didn't say a word.

Leaning down, Santana stuck out her tongue and ran it along Brittany's folds, while both girls groaned in pleasure. Unable to wait any longer, Santana began moving her tongue swiftly up the length of Brittany's slit before carefully massaging the small bundle of nerves at the top. Brittany let out a breathy sigh, and Santana grinned as she slowly teased the entire area; working Brittany into a frenzy. Once she felt Brittany was close, she slowed down, and lapped gently, almost lazily, loving the taste of Brittany. It wasn't until Brittany let out a small whimper that Santana knew she needed to end her fun, and without warning she plunged her tongue into Brittany. Brittany's legs came to wrap around Santana; which in turn, opened the girl up even wider. Santana took the invitation as she continued to move in and out. She could feel the other girl start to tremble and brought her hands up. With one hand, Santana raked her nails over Brittany's dusty nipples, and with the other, she entered Brittany with two fingers. Brittany cried out as Santana moved her hand as far as it could go before bringing it all the way out and repeating. Predicting that Brittany was close, Santana brought her mouth to the girls' clit and began massaging it gently. With that Brittany was pushed over the edge, hand pressed over her mouth to keep her cry quiet. Santana kept licking, though she slowed down and after a moment she moved her body until she was lying on top of the other girl.

"That was amazing," Brittany said, "You're amazing."

"I serve to please," Santana whispered, leaning in to capture Brittany's lips in hers. Santana leaned down and wiggled out of her underwear before returning to press herself against Brittany. Brittany turned so that they were on their sides, legs intertwined, and faces pressed close against one another.

"I can't loose you," Brittany said quietly.

It wasn't the first time they had had this conversation, and, lying together in the sterile barrack, Santana knew it wouldn't be their last. She held the other girl and before long they were both fast asleep, thoughts of that day slipping mercilessly from their minds.

**Thanks for reading, let me know what you think. **

** .com**


	10. Chapter 9

**Trying for quicker updates.**

**Thanks for the reviews everyone, I appreciate all the feedback. Keep it coming**

**Warning: this chapter contains some sexual violence.**

Some days it's hard waking up.

Not like how it used to be hard; like when Santana and I would stay up really late doing _stuff _and then we would have cheerios practice the next morning and all I wanted to do was press my body closer to hers. That was hard. But now it's different, because its hard waking up and realizing that you are living in a nightmare.

I don't know why they gave Santana patrol duty and not me. She's been gone a week now and every morning I wake up, I just want to cry. It's not that I think she's not strong enough, she's mad buff, obviously. I just don't know if I am. I'm not strong enough to stay here and wait. They were supposed to come back yesterday.

Waking up to the sound of Sue's sirens has gotten somewhat more manageable I suppose. It was actually really funny the first week, because Santana would _always _hit her head on the top bunk when they went off. Then we would laugh. Sometimes it was the only time during the day that we would. It's strange to look at how much things have changed. Santana and I used to laugh all the time: at Rachel, at Finn, at Rachel and Finn together, during our tickle wars that I would always win. I loved to tickle Santana. It was pretty selfish of me, but her laugh is totally, without a doubt, the must beautiful thing I have ever heard, and when I was tickling her there was no holding back; her face would scrunch up and I wouldn't be able to stop myself from kissing it. In fact, now that I think about it, I don't think Santana minded the tickling so much, because it would always lead to other…stuff. We would always have to be quite though, in case our parents were home. But now? My mom is dead. My mom is dead, my dad and sisterare missing, and Santana doesn't know where her family is either. Mercedes is dead. Mercedes is dead and so is Mr. Schue. So is Sam's dad. Everyone is dead. And I can't laugh when Santana's not here. And some days it's really hard waking up.

Today pretty much starts out like all the others. With sirens.

Without Santana next to me, I really have no reason to stay in bed. I guess some people would think that's a good thing. Jeremy was our wake up 'buddy' (as he liked to call it) for the first week we were at FLW. I don't think anyone actually told him to do it, and I got the feeling that he just didn't want us staying in bed longer. There really is nothing better than waking up to Santana's mouth molding itself to mine, but then we would always be interrupted by Jeremy knocking on the door. It got annoying pretty fast. Santana was pissed by day one, and she told me to watch out for him. She thinks he doesn't like gay people. He probably wouldn't have liked glee club at all then. Still, I think Santana was right about him, because he hasn't come by my room now that Santana isn't around, and he keeps asking when she'll be back while we are on guard duty. It's killing me to see Santana go back to how she was before Finn forced her out of the closet. Don't get me wrong, I hated Finn for what he did, and I still do, but I loved Santana being open about who she really is. Do I think she could have done it all by herself? Definitely. It's only been a couple weeks but we hardly ever hold hands unless it's night out, or if we're with friends. I'm still not positive what's going on with Sam and Kurt either, but they have both been looking really sad, even though Sam is doing a lot better now. Right now he's working part time in the kitchens with Quinn and I don't think he minds being out of the action for a while.

I don't know how they chose our jobs, but, other than Jeremy, I really don't mind guard duty. The whole base is fenced in twice, with barbed wire on the top, but there is also a sort of wooden boardwalk, held up by metal scaffolding, that I get to walk on all day that's just on the inside of the fences. There's not too much that goes on because the perimeter sweeps have been getting rid of most threats. Still, every once in a while a couple zombies sneak by and I have to use the rifle that has become a permanent fixture on my back to deal with them. It's not a big deal though, turns out I'm pretty awesome with guns. Otherwise, it's nice to see the base from above, with everyone moving about super fast down below me. I think I would get confused if I had to be one of the people running around and delivering things all day. Santana comes and picks me up at breaks and at the end of the day so that I don't get lost. Well, that's what she says anyway. I know that she can't stand being apart from one another any more than I can. That's why this patrol mission is killing me.

A little over a week ago Graven told Puck and Santana that it was their teams' time for a longer patrol. They were essentially broadening their circle and looking for survivors, as well as eliminating clusters of zombies that were identified by the scouts earlier in the week. Well, that's what they said anyways. I asked if I could go with them and I was told no, because I wasn't on patrol. I even filed to be moved to patrol, but then Coach Sylvester called me into her office. I don't know how, but she somehow managed to bring all her cheerios trophies with her to the base, as well as her giant bouncy medicine balls, which she made me sit on. It's funny, because a month ago that would have seemed normal, but when I was sitting there across from her a week ago, I felt like a grown woman being asked to sit in a baby's crib.

"Brittany," said Coach Sylvester.

"Coach," I said. She was just sitting there without saying anything.

"Why do you want to be transferred to patrol?" I thought it was weird that she didn't acknowledge the fact that we were in a military base, a few states over from Ohio, during a zombie apocalypse. But then again, she isn't exactly normal. I mean, she had managed to find an army green tracksuit.

"Because Santana is in it."

"Ah," Coach had stroked her fingers along her chin and sending me a piercing look, before, "I won't let you switch."

I was so furious that I got up off her medicine ball and screamed "Why?!"

All she said before dismissing me was, "Because you'll die out there."

When I had met up with Santana later in the day I was so frustrated that tears were pouring down my face. When I told her what had happened she didn't say anything. It was unfair, I was one of the best shots here; one of the other guards in my squad had even commented on it. Santana nodded but still didn't say anything. Finally I asked that she say something, and when she finally looked up, there were tears in her eyes.

"How can I be angry with coach when I was secretly praying that they wouldn't switch you? How can I be angry with her when all I can think about is how happy I am that you will be safe?" Santana's face was contorted in a mix of guilt and pain, but then I saw it, behind all of it there was relief. I didn't speak to her for the rest of the day. I would rather die with her tomorrow, than walk the wooden boardwalk alone, without her returning. It wasn't fair. I cracked that night when, in silence, Santana pressed her body flush to mine; her mouth pressed to mine, two fingers pumping in and out. Then, all I could say was "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Sam's waiting for me at breakfast. He gives me a small smile, which I try my best to return. From the look on his face I failed. I always fail at things.

"I saved us a table," he says, motioning me over to where I see Kurt sitting next to Quinn.

Quinn hasn't been looking too hot either. I know it's bad, but with my mind always on Santana, I manage to forget that Puck is out there too. I wonder what is going on between Quinn and Puck. I almost asked at dinner if they were trying for another baby, but then Santana grabbed my hand really tightly under the table, so I stopped, even though I could she was trying hard not to laugh.

Everyone is pretty quite this morning. It's nothing new really.

"How's guarding going Britt?" Sam asks me. He's almost always the one that can get me to talk, at least a little bit anyways.

"Killed a zombie yesterday," I say with a mouth full of stale cereal.

"Oh?" Sam says, and I can tell he's only pretending to be interested so that the table doesn't return to how it was a minute ago.

"Yeah," I say, "I've been practicing to see how many fingers I can shoot off before I actually kill them, but then I was told off for wasting bullets."

It really wasn't a fun day at work yesterday.

Kurt looked somewhat green at that and pushed his half-eaten cereal away from him.

"Are you going to-?" Sam motioned to the bowl.

"Go for it," Kurt sighed and waved his hand without looking up.

I don't get them. If the person I really liked was here, if Santana was here, I would probably be getting her off under the table or something. But now Sam is fine and I haven't seen him or Kurt flirting at all.

"Ok," I say slowly once my cereal is done, "This is kind of awkward, so I'm going to go now. See you all at dinner?"

Quinn looked up, surprised, as though she only just realized I was there, Kurt nodded, and Sam looked sad but understanding.

I showed up to work almost an hour early. The sun hadn't completely risen yet, and some of the high-intensity lights they had showering the outside of the base for nighttime guards were still on.

After checking out my gun I ascended the stairs to the wooden boardwalk. This was the eighth day in a row that I showed up this early. I want to be the first one to spot the patrol cars when they come back. The sun is only just rising and I can see the paint numbers reflecting off the thousands of tents in the distance…I'll be passing by them soon enough when I begin my shift. For now I'm content sitting on the walkway, with my legs dangling below me, gun in my lap; staring at the road leading to and from the base. All was quiet. I couldn't help but sighing.

"Rough morning already?"

It was Jeremy. I had to hold myself back from sighing again. Now it was a rough morning.

Instead of replying, I just shrugged, hoping that he would get the hint and mosey on down the boardwalk to the main gate where he was supposed to be anyways. But no, since it seemed everything was acting against me, Jeremy lowered himself so that he was sitting right next to me. Really close. He was smiling. His teeth are worse than Lord Tubbington's. Thinking of Lord Tubbington makes me even more sad.

"What's wrong Brittany?"

I stare at him, wondering how honest to be.

I settle with saying, "My friend is gone."

"You mean Santana." I weigh the pros and cons of lying, but then I remember how Santana told me I was a really bad liar. Or maybe she was just saying how she could always tell when I'm lying. I can't remember. Settling for 'honesty is the best policy,' I nod my head in confirmation.

Jeremy purses his lips into a thin line and all I can think about is how glad I am that he isn't smiling at me any more. He looks deep in thought.

"How long have you and Santana been friends?" he asks.

"As long as I can remember," I reply. It's true, I can't remember my life without Santana in it.

He nods, "That's probably why you seem real comfortable with one another."

I don't know what to say, because that's obviously not the only reason that Santana and I are comfortable with one another. My throat tightens a little bit, and all of a sudden I feel hot. I hope I'm not getting red. That happens a lot when I'm nervous.

After a long period of silence with me neither confirming or denying anything, Jeremy says in a quite voice, "You got a boyfriend Brittany?"

And there it is. My eyes widen and I can't help but notice that there is no one else around. His eyes are glinting and they look cold and mean; so very unlike Santana's warm, chocolaty ones. My heart beats faster and faster. I think about the gun that is in my lap. He wouldn't be silly enough to try anything…would he?

"Cat got your tongue?" Jeremy smiles, but it doesn't look nice at all.

"I—" my voice falters, "No."

"No?" he questions, and I notice how his body is leaning closer to mine so that I can see all the freckles on his cheeks. He's a lot bigger than I am.

"Walters!" a sharp voice comes from below us, and I see our commanding officer, an older guy named Al, calling out from the ground.

Jeremy looks down.

"Come down here son," Al shouts, "Your shift started 5 minutes ago! And unless you want to do burpees instead…"

Jeremy huffed and uses his arms to push himself into an upright position. I look up and see that he has become silhouetted in front of the sun. I have to shield my eyes.

"I'll be seeing you Brittany," Jeremy says, and with that he is gone.

I let out a shaky breath that I didn't realize I had been holding in, then after a minute I slam my fists furiously down on the planks beneath me. "Fuck!" I hiss, trying hard to keep my tears from falling. Sometimes I can be so stupid.

I look up and see a figure approaching the base from a distant house. I press my eye to the scope of my rifle and am immediately aware of its jerky movements and unnatural gait. Taking a deep breath, I press my finger against the trigger and watch in satisfaction as the figure drops to the ground.

Zombies I could handle. It's those of us that are left that scare me.

I decide to go check out the Hub on my lunch break. Santana was with me when I entered my mom's information into the list of deceased a couple weeks ago. As I did, the reality of what I was doing came crashing down upon me. I couldn't find my dad or sisteranywhere on the black monitors. As a way to cheer me up Santana suggested that we write a message to Rachel.

_Hey Hobbit, (Rachel… says Brittany) _

_It's your two fav cheerios here giving you a shoutout from FLW. That's right, we made it and are once again under the watchful eye of one Sue Sylvester. Kurt, Puck, Sam, and Quinn are here too. They say hi probably. Look, we were really happy when we found out you made it to New York (way to be totally predictable by the way.) If you have time we would love to hear how you managed to get that done because right now the only standing theory is that you sang your way through the zombies, as people seemed to reject my theory that you were too small for them to notice in the first place. Brittany wants to know how you are doing, and I guess I do to. Did anyone else manage to make their way out there? _

_Well, we have to go…Britts and I are in charge of blasting the zombies' brains out. _

_Like,_

_Santana and Brittany_

I did feel a little bit better after that. I felt even better when Santana dragged me into the bathroom for an impromptu make-out session five minutes later, whispering between breaths how proud of me she was.

Rachel's response came three days after Santana left.

_My dearest friends in Fort Leonard Wood (I'm assuming that's what FLW stood for, as you didn't bother to clarify.) _

_I do admit that it brought a smile to my face to hear from you two. Why does it not surprise me that you would be together at the end of all this. (If that's not fate, I don't know what is.) Santana, I appreciate that throughout all this you have not managed to damage your impeccable wit. If you had, I believe that would have been more of a sign that the apocalypse had arrived than the zombies that like to creep up to the base at night. As I must point out once again, you really aren't that much taller than I am, so, if that's something you are insecure about you might want to talk to somebody about it. You will find that my dads and I make a very good team when put in difficult situations and a combination of my copious amounts of hair spray as well as dad's favorite crème Brule torch proved to be very effective as a flame thrower. Zombies don't like fire, you know. Once we figured that out it was more or less smooth sailing to New York. Something about picturing the two of you holding guns makes me shudder, though I suppose if I were to entrust any two people with such devices, it would be a better decision than some of those trigger-friendly boys. Speaking of which…I haven't heard from Finn. Have you? If you find anything out I would really appreciate any news, as I've been more or less in the dark over here. I'm glad to hear so many of you have found one another, and, while I do enjoy my dads and I's nightly ritual of star spotting (I'm almost positive that Patti LuPone is bunking 7 tents to the right and 15 rows up, and just last night I could have sworn I saw Cher leaving the bathroom at approximately 9.17pm), I admit, I am lonely without my friends. You would think that after 15 years without friends it would be no trouble going back, but…I've probably embarrassed myself now. Anyways, I wish you the best, and know that I will be thinking of you._

_Stay safe, _

_Rachel Berry_

I shared Rachel's message with everyone that was left at the base and we all managed to smile and laugh at how some things never change. Still, frowns of concern were back once we got to the end of Rachel's letter and Quinn stood up pretty quickly after I was done reading, saying that she was going to write to Rachel as well, not soon after that, Sam and Kurt left to do the same.

Now, as I stand in the Hub, I stare at the black monitors that I have become so familiar with; lists of deceased officially crossed the five million mark yesterday, with the lists of unknown over ten times as large. The list of people accounted for is pitifully small, and we have gotten to a point where we don't get more than one or two more new people into the base per day, even with the added efforts from scouts. The same thing is happening at all the other bases: Hood, Lewis, Bliss, Pendleton, Palms…the list goes on.

I pass by a uniformed officer and see the stars on his uniform. I stand straighter and give him a small salute. He nods his head and says "Private," in acknowledgment before continuing on.

One of the hardest things to get used to here are all the different words and groups that the army has. Everything is so regimented and ordered, and unlike anything I have ever experienced, except maybe for the cheerios. Anyways, Santana and I were originally pretty impressed when everyone was calling Puck "Private Puckerman," but then we realized that was just what they called the lowest ranked person in the army and we weren't as impressed anymore. Still, Santana said it turned her on to hear people call me "Private Pierce", so I don't mind that as much. Mostly I think that by trying to organize everything, it all gets more confusing. Santana is in a squad, and Graven is their Staff Sergeant, I'm in a different squad and Al is my Staff Sergeant, but Santana and I are still in the same platoon… then there is a company, battalion and brigade. Santana was helping me learn everything when she left. Apparently, that's also how they organized our housing, I guess it's all by rank. Jeremy is a Specialist, since he was already here before the infection. His bunker is actually quite far from ours (something Santana likes to make note of every time he decides to give us an early morning wake up call.)

A lot of things here are hard to get used to, but one thing I like is that people seem to respect me based on my performance, and not on things like grades or tests. We do have physical tests and training lots of mornings, but I'm really good at that stuff and I think people are surprised, not because they think I'm stupid, but because I'm a woman. There aren't many other women here, mostly, it's guys like Puck: young, strong, and who like blowing things up. I don't mind though, because except for people like Jeremy, I'm generally left on my own.

I realize I have been zoning out and snap back to reality before checking my watch. I have ten minutes left of break. I quickly scan the message boards and without finding anything new I turn around and jog back to my post.

Most civilians stop working at 1700 hours (or 5pm, as a normal person would say,) but only about 50% of military personnel ends their shift then, and I'm lucky enough to be part of that group. Still, as the clock rounds the hour I don't leave my post, and, as I did earlier, I decide to sit down on the wooden planks instead. Once again, after only a few minutes, my solace is broken, as someone approaches me. To my surprise, I see that it's Quinn. She gives me a small smile.

"May I?" she asks, gesturing next to me.

I nod and she sits down. We sit there for a while without speaking; just watching the sun set. Quinn grabs my hand and holds on to it tightly.

"Are you ok Quinn?" I ask after a minute.

She shakes her head, no.

"Do you want to talk about it," I venture.

She sighs and looks up for a bit, before, in a shaky voice, saying "Yes."

I let her take her time.

"Is it weird that I have never felt more at peace with myself than I am now, or, at least than I have been since I got here?" I don't answer. It's not really my place to say. She continues. "I mean, before news got out about Site Zero, I was such a mess. I had pretty much accepted the fact that I was always going to be screwed up for the rest of my life. I never felt comfortable as Lucy, and, if possible, I felt even less comfortable as Quinn. After I had Beth, how could I go back to being a normal student when I had never been one to begin with? Then the infection happened, and, I don't know…it took fighting for my life to realize what my life was even worth to me. I wanted to protect my mom, and I wanted to see my friends again. Coming here I finally could become myself. I had never fit in as a teenage girl, but here, I didn't have to pretend to be one. And then Puck…I don't know, I think something similar happened. I saw glimpses of the man he could be when we would talk about Beth, but he was still a little boy on the inside. But now? He has helped me so much. I felt like things were finally as they should be, and then they left."

Quinn trails off. I didn't know what to say. She looks hopeless.

"They're coming back," I tell her, but even as I say that I look up and see the motionless landscape surrounding us.

They have to come back.

"I want to believe that Britt, I do," says Quinn, and her voice cracks.

I lean in and squeeze her into me; arms wrapping tight around her. She begins shuddering violently as broken sobs wrack her body.

It's close to seven by the time Quinn and I leave and I tell her that I will meet her for dinner after I return my gun and change from one tan shirt into another. Another long patrol squad is leaving and as the gates open to let them leave, I close my eyes and send out a silent prayer that they return safely. I don't know when I began praying, but I've been doing it a lot in the past few weeks, it seems a lot less boring than it used to, and a lot more important. Anything that would help them come back…

By the time I get to our barracks, the sun has pretty much completely set. I have become used to navigating our tiny room in the dark. I strip off my shirt and grab one of Santana's shirts. I inhale deeply and pull it on, feeling slightly more comfortable. The top bunk looks just as pristine as it did the first day we arrived.

The clothes that we had on when we arrived at the base the first day were finally returned a couple days ago, though army personnel weren't allowed to wear 'street clothes' except for on days off. I got one day off a week, though I still had mandatory physical training in the morning. Santana typically had the same day off, though she would be given two more on top of that _when_ she returned. It really was exhausting, and I've found that most days have begun to blur together as I walk the fenced off perimeter for upwards of 12 hours a day. I find myself nodding off, and mentally shake myself awake, remembering that I promised to meet up with everyone for dinner. I'm hoping that things won't be as tense as they were at breakfast.

By the time I reach the dining area, everyone is already sitting down.

"I got you dinner," Quinn says and points to my plate. Tonight is pasta with a tiny dish of canned peaches.

"I love these," I say, and I can't help but eating my peaches first.

Sam grins at me, "Me too." I notice his bowl of peaches is empty as well.

"Here," Kurt says, and moves his peaches towards Sam, who looks both surprised and pleased.

"How's the hospital?" I ask Kurt and he sighs in response.

"Ok," he says, "Busy as always. Seems like the only thing that this base isn't lacking in is wounded soldiers and civilians. Still, it's been fun hanging out with Robert, and his wife has come in a few times as well. She's a hoot. I guess they were here before the infection. They're in one of the small houses here, and I guess they're also housing a couple civilians as well."

We spend some time talking about work. Sam and Quinn share some news about drama that occurs amongst the kitchen staff, and we all share a few tidbits about who we believe to be sleeping with whom. Kurt says that he received another message from Rachel today, and she informed him of her efforts to erect a stage next to her tent.

"Ok," Sam says, getting up, "Quinn and I need to go help clean up," he makes a face and I find myself giving a genuine smile for the first time today. The two of them say goodbye and leave Kurt and I to sit at the table.

"Kurt?" I ask the other boy, and he looks up questioningly.

"What's the deal with you and Sam? You were like totally into each other and now your like an awkward baby sea turtle struggling to make it to the ocean." The look in his eyes says that he doesn't get it, even though he doesn't say as much.

"Blaine's family contacted me," he says quietly, "Just last week. They asked if I knew anything about where Blaine might be."

I was confused, "Why would you know where he is…why don't they know?"

Kurt takes a deep breath, "Because he went looking for me the day we left Lima."

"What?!" I couldn't believe it.

"Yeah," Kurt looks miserable, and I think I begin to understand. "He, uh, I guess he wouldn't leave with his family until he found out where I was…if I was ok. He never came back. And the whole time we were leaving, I hardly thought about him once." Kurt looks furious with himself and I can see the guilt eating him up.

"Kurt," I say, and I try to be as reassuring as possible, but it's really hard, and I feel like I'm really bad at this, "Things were crazy that day. They're still crazy. Things haven't stopped moving. It's not your fault. You never could have known."

"He told me that he thought we were soulmates; that I was the love of his life," Kurt cries, "He was so sure about it, and I just wasn't. We were so young, we are so young. I had no idea how he could be so certain about that, and then, when I saw Sam run off to save his dad I felt a spark of something, like maybe, just maybe, that could be it."

"I told Sam," Kurt continues, "and now we're in this weird place. I can't just keep doing what we were doing, knowing that Blaine is somewhere out there. Maybe dead, maybe one of them, and it's because of me."

"But Kurt," I say, I need to say something, "Blaine made his choice, but you can't stop living your life because of that. You have the chance of something really good here with Sam. Punishing yourself for something you had no control over won't do anyone any good."

He nods glumly and sniffles.

"I'm sorry Santana isn't here," Kurt says after a while.

"Yeah, me to."

"I really do love that girl," he adds.

"Yeah, me to."

It was an exhausting day. But still, I felt surprisingly better after talking to Quinn and Kurt. I feel lucky to have such good friends. It's because they are so good that they hurt so much.

When I'm back in our room I make a feeble attempt to close the door before flopping face down on the bed. It still smells like Santana. I debate whether or not it is really in my best interest to get up, change, and brush my teeth. On the one hand, minty toothpaste is delicious and the army sweats are surprisingly soft, on the other hand, this bed is so, so comfortable…my eyes close slowly.

I must have fallen asleep, because a while later I open my eyes as I hear the door to the room opening. I feel so groggy, but I can't help the way my heart skips; still slightly lazily. Could it be?

"Santana?" I ask and squint my eyes. Everything is so dark. The door closes. And locks.

Then the person comes closer and I see.

It's Jeremy.

I try to get up, but in an instance he is on top of me; pelvis and legs pining me to the bed, one hand grabbing my wrists and the other hand covering my mouth as I let out a strangled noise of protest.

"Shhhhh," he hushes, as I continue to struggle.

"This is what you and your girl like to do, isn't it?" he was grinning and I can see every one of his teeth sticking in every direction, "Every morning, waking up together. Didn't think I knew, did ya?"

I feel so unbelievably weak. I struggle to free my arms, but his hands act as pincers on my wrists.

"Do you know why we are in this fucked up situation Miss Brittany? Why this world is experiencing a fucking apocalypse?" Jeremy asks, face pressing close to mine and hot breath washing over me, "Do you?" he shouts.

I shake my head as tears start forming in my eyes.

"It's because of sinners like you and your little girlfriend." He drops his voice to a whisper, and it's filled with malice, "We're all getting punished because freaks like you don't know how to be normal. Because freaks like you don't know the difference between right and wrong." He emphasizes this by grinding his pelvis hard into mine, and I can feel him _growing_. I gag.

"That _Santana_," he practically spits her name, "Does she like acting the man? Is she the one that did this to you? You know, I can show you what a man really feels like." He's rocking his body against mine and I am fighting to breath, and fighting to move, to escape what I am sure must be the blackest of nightmares.

"I saw you, you know," he says into my ear, "With that blonde girl this afternoon. Is she another one? Huh? Do you enjoy playing the field? Corrupting young minds and violating all that is pure? Well, I have a little lesson for you."

He quickly moves his hand down from my mouth and begins to unbuckle his jeans, I begin to cry out, but just as I do he moves his mouth to cover mine. His mouth is hot, and foul and all I want to do is die. I just want this to end, to black out, to not remember. With all the strength I have I knock my head forward into his. I see stars, but, I notice, his lips are no longer on mine, and I feel the grip on my hands lessen. He curses loudly, just as I manage to wrench my hands away. I try to shout, but it is muffled from his hand coming to slam hard down onto my face. I roll my hips, and forcefully bring my knee up into his groin. Jeremy cries in pain and anger, fingers tightening painfully on my arm and my neck. It's getting harder to move.

And then, Jeremy is being dragged off of me. White dots are clouding my vision as I hear screaming and the distinct sound of breaking bone. I try to take a breath but everything hurts. Then there is a low groan and everything is quiet for second before arms wrap around me, I tense. But these arms aren't hard or rough…

The blackness I had so desired just a minute earlier begins to wash down upon me.

"Baby," a voice whispers, barely reaching my ears.

Santana.

Santana is back.


End file.
